Page 27 of Tear Me to Pieces
Christian releases me. “I’m gonna go find your sister.”
I nod, pulling in a deep breath. “I think I need a minute.” I’m raw. Nothing but exposed nerves and barely restrained emotion. I don’t want to risk how I might react to seeing her right now. I don’t want to cry. I want to ride the high I’m on as long as possible.
“Take as much time as you need.” Christian ducks out of the curtain, and Tate gives me a quick slap on the shoulder before he follows him out to go find Piper.
I press both hands to my head, trying to find something to ground me before I explode into a million pieces. It’s not a bad feeling, just overwhelming.
I turn in place, trying to expel a little energy, and come face-to-face with Simon as he walks off stage toward me. I don’t know what happens, but my feet start to move. I run right at him, jumping into his arms.
He catches me like he knew I was coming, swinging me around. “That was fucking unreal, My.”
“Yeah?” I squeeze him tighter, because the feel of his arms around me is what I needed. Something to hold me together.
“Yeah. I was so fucking proud watching you. It was killing me that I couldn’t see your face.” His voice is deep and rumbly in my ear.
Now that I no longer feel like I’m about to explode in ten different directions, it registers that I’m pressed tight against him. That his arms are around me. That his bare chest is warm and wide and right against mine.
I lean back, because I should probably put a little distance between us. But that’s not what I end up doing. Instead, my eyes meet his. That look from before is still there. The one that makes me feel like I’m all he sees. It makes my pulse race and my insides heat.
And because I’m still high on adrenaline and possibly still slightly inebriated thanks to bourbon, I do something stupid. Something rash. Something I should instantly regret.
I push up on my toes and bring my lips right to Simon’s.
The kiss is short and disappointing, because a second later, he pulls back, breaking the contact.
“Shit.” Embarrassment heats my face. Am I so damn clueless that I read that whole moment wrong? Saw what I wanted to see instead of what was really there? “I’m sorry. I was just?—”
Simon’s hold on me shifts. I think he’s letting me go, but then one big hand comes to my face, thumb under my chin, fingers along my jaw as his mouth seals over mine.
10
SIMON
I need to stop this.Let Myra go and give us both a second to breathe.
And I will. In just a minute.
After I take a second to appreciate everything about the moment. The feel of her body against mine. The taste of her on my tongue. The sweet way she looked at me in surprise after pressing her lips to mine.
Like she didn’t know what just happened. Didn’t understand what she’d just started. The dam she’d broken.
I’ve been holding back—myversion of holding back. Trying, at least inwardly, to do the things I know I should. Give Myra space. Keep things simple between us. Appropriate. Uncomplicated.
But truthfully, things have been complicated since I carried her away from the man who did nothing but use her.
So, instead of pushing her away, I pull her closer. Wrap one hand in her hair while the other keeps her body against mine. I takeeverything she’s willing to give me. Drink in every move. Every sound. Every breath.
Dragging my mouth off hers, I press my lips to her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin as I run my lips along her jaw and up to her ear. I’m pushing things further than I first intended—shocker—but I’m still in control. Still aware of what I’m doing.
But then her hands leave where they’ve been laced around my neck, soft palms sliding over my bare skin as they slide down my chest. When the tips of her fingers drag across my nipples, I have to bite back a groan.
Forcing myself to push her away, I fight to keep my grip on the tiny shred of restraint I’m still in possession of. My chest heaves as I hold her at arm’s length, my fingers digging into her hips.
Myra blinks up at me, gaze hooded, lips parted. All I want is to pull her back. Run with everything I’m feeling and never look back.
But I can’t. Because this isn’t about me. It’s not about what I want or what I need.
Myra’s pale brows pinch together in confusion. She tries to step closer to me, but I hold firm, keeping her where she is.
