might be it . These could be my final moments. I tried to inhale again but it took forever for the air to pass through. My lungs needed it NOW. How did we take such a simple thing for granted? We breathed in and out every second of every day throughout our whole lives and never understood how precious each breath was. I barely registered arms curling around my shoulders. “Ruby, you have to breathe!” I recognized Reese's voice but I couldn't respond. The harder I tried to inhale the more fruitless my efforts seemed to be. I was going to die. “You're having a panic attack. You have to listen to me. Listen to my voice, okay? Breathe slower. Take a long, deep breath.” Was he blind, or crazy? I COULDN'T BREATH! His hands trembled on my shoulders but I couldn't concern myself with the fact that he was worried about me – not when I knew I was dying. “Okay – look. Don't hate me but I have to calm you down. I have to shift your attention.” I barely heard a word he said. His palm pressed against my cheek and turned my head. Instantly and out of nowhere, Reese's warm lips pressed against my own.
I daydreamed about this feeling before. I used to kiss the back of my hand in the privacy of my chambers and imagine I was kissing Reese, something I knew could never and would never happen in real life. Even so, just the mere thought of it, the imaginary impossible kiss from the only person I had ever wanted in that way sent my body into a frenzy. It felt like I was being tickled, but all over my skin in every place at once. Sometimes I would then run my fingertips across my forearm and the feeling would increase. I would shudder and my back would arch, but all too quickly, fear would rush in and replace the tingles. It wasn't that I was afraid of what I was feeling, rather, I was afraid I would never feel it for real and the more I let my imagination wake my body up, the more disappointed I would be when my mate kissed me – and I felt nothing.
Reese's breath softly rushed past my lips and all I could compare it to were the stories Grandpa Logan used to tell me about the tide from the ocean rushing over the tops of his feet. My heartbeat definitely did not slow but it was no longer blind panic that kept it pumping madly, it was desire. My lids half-closed over my eyes and my chin tilted upward as I pressed my lips back against his own. My body responded in ways I could not possibly command it to in my own consciousness. The tiniest noise escaped between my lips and the vibration moved from my mouth to his. We were connected, my movements becoming his and his becoming mine. He pillowed my upper lip between his own and I sighed again, moving closer, wanting more – but he pulled away. As suddenly as this amazing, earth-moving feeling of escape began, it was over.
The cloud of yearning I was cushioned on for only a few mere moments disappeared and I crashed back down to the hard, cold floor. Fury replaced lust. How could Reese do that to me? How could he kiss me like that, bring me to a new height, allow me to feel what was – and should have stayed – only in my imagination and then take it away just as thoughtlessly as it was given? And then I realized –
I was breathing.
My heart still raced, my mind still flashed snippets of colors and scenes and fleeting possibilities behind my closed eyes, but I was breathing. My breaths were short; a quick and heavy inhale and a forcefully expelled exhale, but I was breathing.
I opened my eyes. Reese's face was redder than I had ever seen it before. He looked like he dove head first into a barrel of tomato juice. His eyes darted around wildly, refusing to settle or even come close to looking into my own. He pressed his palms on the ground and scooted away from me like I was poison. “You were having a panic attack – I
I daydreamed about this feeling before. I used to kiss the back of my hand in the privacy of my chambers and imagine I was kissing Reese, something I knew could never and would never happen in real life. Even so, just the mere thought of it, the imaginary impossible kiss from the only person I had ever wanted in that way sent my body into a frenzy. It felt like I was being tickled, but all over my skin in every place at once. Sometimes I would then run my fingertips across my forearm and the feeling would increase. I would shudder and my back would arch, but all too quickly, fear would rush in and replace the tingles. It wasn't that I was afraid of what I was feeling, rather, I was afraid I would never feel it for real and the more I let my imagination wake my body up, the more disappointed I would be when my mate kissed me – and I felt nothing.
Reese's breath softly rushed past my lips and all I could compare it to were the stories Grandpa Logan used to tell me about the tide from the ocean rushing over the tops of his feet. My heartbeat definitely did not slow but it was no longer blind panic that kept it pumping madly, it was desire. My lids half-closed over my eyes and my chin tilted upward as I pressed my lips back against his own. My body responded in ways I could not possibly command it to in my own consciousness. The tiniest noise escaped between my lips and the vibration moved from my mouth to his. We were connected, my movements becoming his and his becoming mine. He pillowed my upper lip between his own and I sighed again, moving closer, wanting more – but he pulled away. As suddenly as this amazing, earth-moving feeling of escape began, it was over.
The cloud of yearning I was cushioned on for only a few mere moments disappeared and I crashed back down to the hard, cold floor. Fury replaced lust. How could Reese do that to me? How could he kiss me like that, bring me to a new height, allow me to feel what was – and should have stayed – only in my imagination and then take it away just as thoughtlessly as it was given? And then I realized –
I was breathing.
My heart still raced, my mind still flashed snippets of colors and scenes and fleeting possibilities behind my closed eyes, but I was breathing. My breaths were short; a quick and heavy inhale and a forcefully expelled exhale, but I was breathing.
I opened my eyes. Reese's face was redder than I had ever seen it before. He looked like he dove head first into a barrel of tomato juice. His eyes darted around wildly, refusing to settle or even come close to looking into my own. He pressed his palms on the ground and scooted away from me like I was poison. “You were having a panic attack – I
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