Page 172 of Cerulean Truth
James didn’t answer.
“Is there a reason you’d have to hide this from me?” I asked, wondering why he didn’t tell me before coming here.
James swallowed. “It’s classified information. I’m not allowed to tell you, but…” his voice trailed off.
I didn’t care about the rest of the story. Leaning in softly, I went in to kiss his cheek, but James saw me coming and turned to face me. I halted just before my lips touched his, but I didn’t retreat.
Catching his gaze, his eyes darkened as they took me in. Whenever he looked at me like that, my heart did a few somersaults. It was like hedrankme in, his need for me too big to fight it.
My eyes studied his face, making sure he wasn’t in too much pain before I dropped my gaze to his lips.
“Do you think…” I hesitated, my voice barely a whisper. “Would it hurt if I kissed you?”
He grunted in response, closing the last few inches between us, his mouth desperate for mine.
I moaned as his lips crashed onto mine, his tongue instantly seeking mine.
It was like a wildfire had been ignited, spreading through every fiber of my being. His kiss was intense, demanding, as if he was trying to consume me whole. I melted into him, my hands instinctively tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
His lips moved against mine with a fervor that set my skin ablaze, igniting a passion I could hardly contain. Each touch, each caress, sent shivers all over my body, leaving me breathless and wanting more. His tongue explored every inch of my mouth with that undeniable hunger of his. And I reciprocated, losing myself in the heat of the moment, drowning in the intoxicating sensation of his lips.
I cursed his injuries for preventing me from fully surrendering to my instincts. Oh, how I wanted him. How I needed him.
Reluctantly, I pulled away, my chest heaving with desire as I gazed into his eyes, still yearning for more. But even as I detached myself from his lips, the heat between us lingered, a tantalizing promise of what was yet to come.
My eyes remained locked with his, searching for any sign of reassurance, any promise of life. “Please don’t die,” I pleaded, my desperation evident in every word.
He smiled gently, his head resting against mine. “I won’t.”
I laid my head next to his, feeling the warmth of his lips as they pressed softly against my forehead.
And just like that, he drifted back to sleep, his breathing steady and calm. And I followed suit, finding solace in the embrace of sleep beside him.
“Emma,”a voice whispered softly, barely rousing me from sleep.
“Hmm...” I mumbled, reluctant to awaken.
“Emma,” the voice whispered again, this time with more urgency.
“What?” I muttered, still keeping my eyes closed, determined to cling to the remnants of sleep.
“Wake up, Julian’s here,” the voice insisted.
I shot up immediately, my heart pounding with a surge of adrenaline. Quickly checking the man laying still beside me, I found him a lot paler than I would have liked. Panic shot through me, and I leaned in closer, relieved to feel the steady rhythm of his breathing.
Maurice stood beside the bed, already preparing his tools to examine James.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“It’s almost five in the morning. You should go downstairs; Julian has a lot to tell you,” Maurice instructed, his tone brisk but reassuring. “I’ll change James’s wound dressings and join you shortly.”
I nodded, hurrying to the bathroom to freshen up before dashing downstairs, my mind already formulating a barrage of questions for Julian, ready to give him an earful for abandoning us in our greatest hour of need.
As I walked downstairs, my eyes were drawn to the body on the couch, completely covered by a white blanket. Dale. My heart lurched in my throat. I barely knew the guy, but he had gone down fighting for my life. I owed him everything. He was dead and I hadn’t even thanked him.
“I’m glad to see you’re okay,” a small voice uttered to my right.
My jaw clenched, and my fists tightened at my sides as I turned toward my best friend and betrayer.
