“There’s no time to discuss it anymore,” she says. “Right now I just need to know—”
“Why do you never listen to me? Just once I’d love for you to listen to me without arguing—”
“Stop,” Rosabelle says forcefully. “I need to know whether the vial is still in your family’s possession.”
“That’s none of your business.”
Her eyes flash with cold anger. “We’re out of time,” she says darkly. “And I’m losing my patience with you.”
Those words seem ominous.
I move without thinking, closing the distance between us in a few strides. She takes a sharp breath, stumbling a few steps as I approach, her back nearly meeting the wall.We’re suddenly separated by inches. Her skin is like glass in the moonlight. Her lips are soft and full, slightly parted.
I feel unstable as I look at her. My head is dangerously overheated. My body never lost its fire. My heart never stopped racing in my chest.
“Rosabelle,” I say quietly. “Are you threatening me?”
Her breathing is shallow. “Yes,” she exhales.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
Her eyes nearly close. I’m practically shaking from the effort not to touch her.
“I don’t know,” she says.
My head is half steam, my heart battering my ribs. Standing this close to her is making me lose focus. I can’t remember what we’re talking about. I want to pin her to the wall. I’ve been dreaming of moments like this. Dying for a chance to get her alone, to sort out this damage in my heart, this heat in my veins, but we’ve never had a chance, there’s never been time—
Rosabelle lifts her hands to my chest and I exhale sharply, surprised, my rigid body turning suddenly to stone. I don’t even have a chance to process this before she drags her hands slowly down my torso, her fingers curling into my shirt. A shock of pleasure drives the air from my lungs. I don’t know what we’re doing anymore.
I can’t tell if she’s trying to pull me in or push me away.
“James,” she whispers, and the word is desperate.
The sound of her voice unhinges something inside of me, injecting a torrent of heat into my blood that kills the last of my common sense. Every reckless, irresponsible thoughtI’ve ever had about her suddenly seems like a good idea. Stripping her slowly suddenly seems like a good idea. Falling to my knees right here in the middle of this diner suddenly seems like the best idea I’ve had in years. I find her waist in the darkness and she gasps as I draw her close, her hands lifting automatically toward my neck, and I hear the tremor in my own breath, my heart chaotic. Her eyes are dilated in the half dark, her hair gleaming like liquid silver against my hands. She looks as far gone as I am. I drag my hands down her back, sealing our bodies together, and I can feel everything through her thin clothes—every soft curve meeting every inch of my hardened body—and the pleasure is so intense it’s nearly blinding. Her head falls back on a soft moan.
That sound sinks teeth into me, becomes a part of me.
“Rosabelle,” I say, my voice in shreds. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I can’t,” she says, her breath catching. “I can’t think when you’re this close. No one has ever—This is—You don’t understand what you do to me—”
“Help me understand.” I push up slowly under her shirt, my hands gliding against the satin skin of her back, and she cries out again, and I feel like I’m going insane.
“I’ve never—I’ve never—” She gasps. “I don’t know how to—James—”
I press my face to her throat, my lips grazing her pulse, and I breathe her in like an addict, my head hot and drunk. She whimpers as I skate my nose along the nape of her neck, and then I taste her there, my tongue hot against her skin,and she makes a sound like a stifled sob, the impact branding my bones.
“James,” she says, sounding almost panicked. “James—”
I’m out of my mind.
I’m already worried I’ll never get enough of this. I’m already worried I’ll always need more. I want her naked in this moonlight. I want to lay her down under the stars. I want to feel the wind on my back when I make her scream. I can’t fucking breathe.
“Answer me,” I say, pressing the words against her throat. Her hands are caught between us, inching dangerously down the front of my body, and I can feel myself shaking, muscles taut with impossible tension. “Tell me what you want from me. What do you want right now?”
She lifts her head like she might be dreaming, blinking up at me in the glaze of starlight, her eyes half-lidded with desire. I nearly kiss her right then. I’ve clenched her shirt in my fist like I’m fighting for my life. I can’t form a single coherent thought beyond this annihilating need to taste more of her. All of her. But her expression softens the longer she searches my face, and, slowly, the haze clears from her eyes. “I want to protect you,” she says softly. “I want to keep you safe.”
The breath that leaves my body is so complete it rocks the foundations of who I am.
