Page 116 of Chandelier Enthralled
I should have told her how impressed I was at how she navigated the world so bravely, that I found her mischief admirable.
As a friend, I could say something like that but chose not to.
Just friends.It stung more than it should.
I turned away, trying to resist her captivating eyes.
“Stop overthinking things,” she said, bringing out two mugs. “Don’t be so mercurial.”
“I’m merely keeping my distance.”
She looked amused. “It’s not like you can’t control your obsession for me.”
That made me smile.
She was a little annoying—it was her confidence, not the fact I found her fascinating. She was like one of my complicated designs I was trying to solve, where the answer defied me.
I watched her again, savoring the way she confidently moved around my space, all feminine motion and easy smiles.
Having a Cole, famed for their brilliant infusions, knock up a brew for me was an experience of the ages. If anyone embodied the essence of tea royalty, it was her.
Within minutes, she set the piping hot mugs on the counter. With her approval, I added a splash of milk.
She moved over to the window and peered out, gazing up at the lone house that overlooked mine, her brow furrowing.
Before I could stop myself, I approached her, pulling her into my arms and lifting her onto the central island, then stepping forward between her thighs. From the way she lowered her gaze, she must have thought I was going to kiss her.
“Willa, I admire what you attempted to do tonight. But you must realize Pendulum is not the kind of place you belong. You had your fun. Knock this off your bucket list. Going back is never going to happen.”
She pushed my hand away, disappointment in her eyes.
“The story will never be written,” I added. “This evening must be forgotten. Never speak of what you saw.”
“Didn’t see anything.”
“Good girl.”
Her mouth parted at hearing those words, as though my endearment had lit her on fire with lust. Her eyelids fluttered, thighs spreading as she softened before me.
I had unwittingly stepped between her open thighs to get close enough to make my point, but that had been a mistake.
Her intoxicating scent affected my senses. I steadied myself against the shock of those sensations and unfolding emotions, making me feel I could finally breathe again.
“Are you still angry?” she asked coyly.
No, never that.
I’m not sure what made me do it, but I pulled her into a hug, and she rested her head against my chest. It was easy to wrap my arms around her, feeling as if an unspoken understanding had bloomed between us.
I breathed her in, smelling subtle vanilla, and something else, too, a bewitching perfume, her natural scent.
We were surrounded by a stillness, as though we’d stepped inside the center of a hurricane, and all the floating chaos and debris couldn’t touch us, not while we were in this embrace.
“I care about you,” she said softly, her face buried in my chest.
I smiled even though she couldn’t see it. “I can tell.”
“Shut up and enjoy the hug.”
