Page 63 of When The Mountains Held Us

A finger slips beneath my chin, and he tilts my face up to his. He’s close. So close I can smell the mint of his toothpaste with every one of his exhales.

“There is nothing going on between Layla and me. Absolutely nothing.” His words are firm.

“I know what I saw. She was all over you.” I don’t mean to sound dismissive or condescending, but my eyes didn’t lie to me in that bar.

“And if you had kept watching, you would have seen me shove her off. Trust me, I didn’t ask for that. There’s only one woman whose attention I crave.”

I scoff. “And whose is that?”

He gives a humorless laugh. “You really need me to tell you?”

“Yes.”

He grips my chin harder, command and dominance in his touch that I swear would buckle my knees if I wasn’t leaning against the counter.

“You’re a smart woman, Oakley. Tell me you haven’t figured it out yet.”

A beat passes. A breath shared between us as I examine him with the new possibility that he wants this as much as I do. I can’t voice it for the same reason he can’t. There’s a longing in the tension, a delicious anticipation that coasts between us, and for the life of me, I don’t want it to shatter.

Not yet.

I step out of his touch, and he lets me go, watching me the way a predator watches its prey as I make my way towards the tub.

I drop the towel, a silent invitation for him to look, to see me the way I truly want him to. His audible intake of breath is sexy as fuck, and it skitters over my skin, raising goosebumps as I slowly lower myself into the warm water.

Thirty-Two

Levi

Ihave to bite my own tongue to keep from groaning out loud. I don’t move, but my eyes greedily drink in the expanse of soft skin, tanned golden by the summer sun, and my fingers twitch with the restraint it’s taking not to reach out and pull her back towards me.

Her damp hair is so long that it nearly brushes the small of her back, the locks hanging in messy waves that make her look like she’s been freshly fucked. God, how I wish that were the case.

She lifts her leg over the edge of the tub, and fuck me, there is no reality out there in which I don’t stare directly at that pert little ass.

It’s gone all too soon, engulfed by the sudsy water as she leans against the backrest. Dammit. Why did I think adding the bubble bath was a good idea? The suds surround her, and the water climbs up her throat until only her head is exposed. I added so much soap to the bath that the water is nearly impossible to see through. My imagination runs wild with thoughts of what’s under that water, and I’m about two seconds away from diving in after her just for the chance to find out.

Oakley lets out a groan of contentment and settles further into the water. My cock stiffens in my sweats at the sultry noise. I want to hear it again. And again. And again.

She has her head tilted back to rest along the lip of the tub, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted as she soaks, and I can’t help but watch in rapt adoration.

She’s so beautiful it hurts.

I don’t know how I’ve gone my entire life without knowing her, because now that I’ve met her, I can’t imagine any life worth living that doesn’t have her in it.

My broken upbringing doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that I spent years listening to the man I was supposed to look up to beat on the people closest to him. It doesn’t matter that those nightmares still linger in my psyche or that they sometimes rear their ugly heads.

All that matters is her.

My world is tilted on its axis, and I’m drawn by an invisible magnetic force right into her orbit. I’m not sold on the idea of karma, but if this is my reward for suffering through years of abuse and neglect, then I’d endure it all again just for the chance of being here with her.

I’m frozen in time, right here in the middle of my own bathroom, wanting to stay where I am and drink in all her beauty, yet at the same time, ready to drop to my knees in surrender.

I am captivated.

Utterly and devastatingly captivated.

And I can’t find it in me to fight it anymore.