breath away. It was scary the way a complete stranger could make me feel, the desire he evoked in me with one look.
“It does rain a lot here.” I found my voice and took a tentative step toward him.
The tip of his tongue slid through his mouth, grazing his top lip, almost like he was thinking about licking my lips, not his. “I’d like to call it mist.”
“Fine, it mists a lot in Seattle.” My eyes couldn’t look away from his; like a trance, I kept watching his face, entertained by each movement he made.
“Magical,” he whispered reverently. “The mist. No way would I be coming out and saying that about you after only knowing you for a mere hour… don’t you think? After all, I’m honest, but I don’t want to come on too strong by telling you that under the stars you look like an angel… a dark angel.”
I tried to shrug, to appear unaffected by his words. “Hmm, isn’t darkness bad? Wouldn’t that mean I’m fallen?”
He laughed, pulling his hands out of his pockets and gently tugging me the rest of the way toward him. His legs braced either side of mine as my dress puffed around him. Strong fingers grazed my jaw as he kissed me softly on the cheek and whispered, “I’m pretty sure those are the best kind.”
CHAPTER TEN
“Prove you love me,” I demanded one night when we were at a party.
She gave me that stare, the one that said she was afraid but didn’t know how to fix it. “Tay…” She shook her head. “…you know I love you. What more do you want me to do?” She was on the verge of tears.
I felt equal parts bad and good. Her reaction sated me. Her tears destroyed me. I needed to be numb again. It was the only way to keep the demons out, the only way to keep everyone out. The pain was too much. So I reached into my pocket and pulled out a handful of pills then tossed them into my mouth and whispered, “Fine, you just killed me then.” — The Journal of Taylor B.
Tristan
S HE WAS LIKE a drug. With each glance she gave me, I wanted to take more; with each word she shared, I leaned in. Something about her was dark. I wasn’t one to normally be attracted to that sort of thing. I was the golden child, after all. But it was fun — in that single stolen moment — being myself and wondering what if I didn’t have to worry about the journals, or Taylor, or Lisa? What if it was just me in this moment with this stunning woman?
What would I do?
I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against hers. A shaky breath escaped her lips. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Are you trying to prepare me or ask permission?” she whispered, her voice beckoning me like a siren’s call.
“Both.” My lips hovered near hers. “I figure it’s only fair.”
“Fair?” She pulled back slightly. “How so?”
“Ten thousand.” I angled my head and watched the pulse jump on her neck. “That’s how many nerve endings, on average, are in your lips. Consequently, when your body anticipates pleasure, the build-up is the best part. Imagine, those ten thousand nerves are swelling, allowing blood to surge through them in anticipation of… what?” I swept my tongue across her lower lip and whispered, “Of being touched. I ask permission, not because I’m being a gentleman. It’s actually the complete opposite. I ask permission so your brain anticipates the pleasure before I’ve ever even touched you.”
I tasted her lower lip again and abruptly dipped my tongue into her mouth. Then just as quickly retreated. “The human body is an instrument. Know how to master it… and well…” I let my voice drop as I moved my hands slowly to her shoulders and tugged her body flush against mine. Our mouths met softly at first. I deepened the kiss, memorizing her taste, knowing I wouldn’t experience a kiss like this again in my lifetime. The way her scent, her soft moans destroyed my body, wrecked me from the deepest part of me, was nothing short of life-altering.
And I’d like
“It does rain a lot here.” I found my voice and took a tentative step toward him.
The tip of his tongue slid through his mouth, grazing his top lip, almost like he was thinking about licking my lips, not his. “I’d like to call it mist.”
“Fine, it mists a lot in Seattle.” My eyes couldn’t look away from his; like a trance, I kept watching his face, entertained by each movement he made.
“Magical,” he whispered reverently. “The mist. No way would I be coming out and saying that about you after only knowing you for a mere hour… don’t you think? After all, I’m honest, but I don’t want to come on too strong by telling you that under the stars you look like an angel… a dark angel.”
I tried to shrug, to appear unaffected by his words. “Hmm, isn’t darkness bad? Wouldn’t that mean I’m fallen?”
He laughed, pulling his hands out of his pockets and gently tugging me the rest of the way toward him. His legs braced either side of mine as my dress puffed around him. Strong fingers grazed my jaw as he kissed me softly on the cheek and whispered, “I’m pretty sure those are the best kind.”
CHAPTER TEN
“Prove you love me,” I demanded one night when we were at a party.
She gave me that stare, the one that said she was afraid but didn’t know how to fix it. “Tay…” She shook her head. “…you know I love you. What more do you want me to do?” She was on the verge of tears.
I felt equal parts bad and good. Her reaction sated me. Her tears destroyed me. I needed to be numb again. It was the only way to keep the demons out, the only way to keep everyone out. The pain was too much. So I reached into my pocket and pulled out a handful of pills then tossed them into my mouth and whispered, “Fine, you just killed me then.” — The Journal of Taylor B.
Tristan
S HE WAS LIKE a drug. With each glance she gave me, I wanted to take more; with each word she shared, I leaned in. Something about her was dark. I wasn’t one to normally be attracted to that sort of thing. I was the golden child, after all. But it was fun — in that single stolen moment — being myself and wondering what if I didn’t have to worry about the journals, or Taylor, or Lisa? What if it was just me in this moment with this stunning woman?
What would I do?
I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against hers. A shaky breath escaped her lips. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Are you trying to prepare me or ask permission?” she whispered, her voice beckoning me like a siren’s call.
“Both.” My lips hovered near hers. “I figure it’s only fair.”
“Fair?” She pulled back slightly. “How so?”
“Ten thousand.” I angled my head and watched the pulse jump on her neck. “That’s how many nerve endings, on average, are in your lips. Consequently, when your body anticipates pleasure, the build-up is the best part. Imagine, those ten thousand nerves are swelling, allowing blood to surge through them in anticipation of… what?” I swept my tongue across her lower lip and whispered, “Of being touched. I ask permission, not because I’m being a gentleman. It’s actually the complete opposite. I ask permission so your brain anticipates the pleasure before I’ve ever even touched you.”
I tasted her lower lip again and abruptly dipped my tongue into her mouth. Then just as quickly retreated. “The human body is an instrument. Know how to master it… and well…” I let my voice drop as I moved my hands slowly to her shoulders and tugged her body flush against mine. Our mouths met softly at first. I deepened the kiss, memorizing her taste, knowing I wouldn’t experience a kiss like this again in my lifetime. The way her scent, her soft moans destroyed my body, wrecked me from the deepest part of me, was nothing short of life-altering.
And I’d like
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