Page 79 of Cerulean Truth
"You mean your position as Leader?" she asked sharply.
My brows shot up in surprise. "You've heard about that?"
She nodded. "Yeah... why didn't you tell me you are to become some sort of president?"
I shrugged. "It's just a job."
She rolled her eyes at me. "I'd prepare a better speech for your inauguration, if I were you."
I snorted. "Noted."
She met my stare through her long eyelashes, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from her.
Our eyes remained locked, and I sensed a shift in her demeanor. The energy between us was charging, becoming tangible and a dark hunger started simmering beneath the surface, tempting me, making it near impossible not to touch her.
Her maddening perfume filled my senses once again, stirring some primal urge within me. Her lips parted, drawing in more oxygen, and I watched as her breaths grew irregular. Her pupils dilated and goosebumps manifested on her arm.
Leaning in, I whispered her name softly near her ear. “Emma…”
She placed her slightly trembling hand on my chest and closed her eyes. The rise and fall of her chest quickened, mirroring the pace of my own heartbeat, and I felt my manhood twitch.
All I wanted to do was get her away from everyone and go somewhere we could be alone. Swallowing hard, I struggled with the dryness in my throat. My finger traced down her arm, the touch so light it was barely the ghost of one. My lips hovered over the tip of her ear and I nearly dropped them a few inches, to press them against her neck.
“James?” I heard someone calling me. I jerked back, seeing Justine standing five feet away from us. And she was glaring.
TWENTY-ONE
EMMA
James… James in a tux… James in a dark blue tux… James in a dark blue tux with white shirt and open collar… Men like him should not be allowed to wear tuxedos.
I considered myself an intelligent woman. My brain usually functioned quite well, even. But when James in tux was thrown in the mix, all I was left with was an inability to think clearly, speak, or even flirt appropriately.
I caught James staring at my chest as I walked in—the guy was about as subtle as a football mascot—and I had found so much pleasure in it. Yet, the truth wasIwas the one who couldn’t stop staring athim. He always appeared kind of perfect, but when he donned a tux, he transformed into a hotter rendition of James Bond. A hotter rendition. Of. James. Mothaflappin’ Bond.
When he drew near and whispered my name into my ear, good gods, I had to cling to his shirt just to steady myself. My legs were trembling, my breath caught in my throat, and the sensation of him almost touching me was overwhelming. The gentle brush of his lips against my ear as he uttered my name sent shivers down my spine and I shuddered, eliciting a silentmoan of ecstasy. I longed for his kiss, and the yearning was becoming unbearable.
Before anything could transpire between us, he abruptly pulled away, his attention diverted to the furious red-headed goddess standing beside us. Her anger was apparent, and I wondered whether she was his girlfriend.
She was the epitome of beauty, yet now she seemed engulfed in a fiery mix of jealousy and rage. James, ever the enigma, seemed to be caught in the crossfire of emotions. The tension in the room skyrocketed, and I couldn't shake the sensation of being an unwelcome witness to their silent drama.
Oh, my Gods. It hit me then and there—I had been fantasizing about this guy for weeks, completely oblivious to his relationship status. Did he have a girlfriend? Had I been indulging in a fantasy that didn't even exist? I felt a wave of surprise and disappointment crash over me.
"Who isthis?" she demanded of James, as if I were invisible, as if my presence in the room didn't even register.
"Hi,thisis Emma," I greeted, offering a cautious smile as I extended my hand to shake hers. Fine, maybe my hands weren’t as beautifully manicured as hers, but from the way she was staring at it, I might as well have been offering her leprosy. I swiftly withdrew my hand, noticing James frowning at her behavior.
"This is Justine," he interjected, clearly displeased by her lack of acknowledgment toward me.
"I thought this was a members-only event?" she queried James, completely disregarding my presence.
James cocked his head to the side, a smile playing on his lips. "I don’t think there has ever been an event in Emma’s life where she has not been invited," he remarked.
Well,that was nice of him. Completely untrue, but nice.
Justine—or whatever her name was—rolled her eyes at him.
I cocked a brow; she was awfully rude to me without any provocation. Unless she really was his girlfriend, in which case any hint of sexual tension between James and me was reason enough to make me feel like an expendable side character in a poorly written romance novel.
