Page 77 of Breaking Point
This is not good. This is not fucking good at all.
Especially after what we just talked about. And yet, her gaze remains locked on mine, her lips parted as her tongue darts out to lick the bottom one. My fingers twitch, desperately wanting torun along the length of her body. I don’t care where, they just want tomove, to explore.
Bella’s eyes become hooded, her hand on my shoulder fisting my shirt as her thighs squeeze together.
“Do you think they’re gone?” she whispers, her voice hoarse.
“We should probably wait to be certain,” I drawl.
Her chest rises on a sharp inhale. “I’m surprised it hasn’t gone to your head.”
My gaze flicks back and forth between her eyes, my hips instinctively moving a fraction and my god, it feels so good I can’t help myself, a low grunt slips from my mouth. “That means nothing to me.”
Her brow quirks. “And what does?” she asks, her head lowering just an inch toward mine.
Tilting my chin upwards, ever so closer to hers, my hands tighten on her waist as my lips part to answer,You. My heart is pounding such a ferocious beat in my ears that as our bodies lean toward one another like magnets, I don’t hear the first knock, or the second.
Bella squeals, flinging herself away from me as someone throws open the photo booth curtain.
A security guard frowns down at us. “There’s a line. Hurry it along.”
Clearing my throat is useless. My voice is still rough, gravelly, as I say, “Yes, sir, my apologies.”
He looks between us, shaking his head as he wanders off.
Bella’s cheeks are blazing red as she pushes herself off me and out of the booth, her eyes avoiding the line waiting outside. Bella isn’t the only one blushing, my cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Placing my hand on her lower back, I lead her away from the sets of eyes.
“Wait!”
Bella stiffens as I turn to the man who called out, but he only produces a set of photos. “You forgot your images.”
“Thanks, man.”
Turning back, I’m stunned because I didn’t even realizeflashes were going off. By the stunned look on Bella’s face, neither did she.
Bella won’t look at the images but I do. There’s four black-and-white photos in a row. In each photograph, I’m looking at Bella like she’s the sun, that I’m merely just existing, floating through time as I’m sucked into her orbit.
The gaze on my face…I’ve never seen it before.
And Bella. My god,Bella.
She’s facing sideways so she’s partially in frame, but there’s enough to see that her bottom lip is captured between her teeth. I wish I could see her fully, wish the camera captured how there was heat sizzling in her eyes.
Placing the photos in my pocket, I decide this is firmly going in my nightstand drawer. I’d place it on the top where I could see it at all hours but Bella goes into my room to grab my laundry, and something tells me placing this photo of us on my bedside table would count as blurring the line between assistant and fake girlfriend.
Trailing through the carnival, I note how the clockwise movement has gone out the window now, especially with the group of girls quite literally hunting me like a startled deer. I’m wondering if I’ve fucked up this entire arrangement before it’s even started. Wondering if I should just take her home, but then I remember how excited she was upon entering.
I’m walking aimlessly, trying to remember what we still need to see.
Until salvation comes into view.
Chapter 20
Bella
LAYLA
oooh, the bunnies are riled up!
