Page 137 of Eternal
My heartbeat picks up at the implication, and I strangely don't like it. His eyes flicker over my face, lingering a little too long, and I can’t help but feel like he’s enjoying this jealous side of me.
I’m about to say something smart, something to break this weird-bullshitty moment between us, when his hand slides up to rest on my shoulder. The touch is light,reallylight. It's barely there.. It's only my shoulder but still, my heart screams for more.
Why is my traitor of body reacting like that to a fucking simple touch? Like it’s all a little too close.
I look up at him, and for a second, neither of us moves.Okay, this is weird.
He’s so close now I can smell the sweet smell of his cologne mixed with the scent of leather and smoke. He doesn’t even need to try this hard, he’s simply looking at me, and yet here I am, barely able to breathe.
“You really should stop looking at me like that,” I say, voice barely a whisper.
He smiles again, but it’s softer this time. “Why? You like it.”
I do like it.
His breath is warm, ghosting over my skin, and I don’t know why I’m holding mine. His eyes flick down to my lips for a second, then back up.
My stomach tightens. My fingers twitch at my sides.
Do it.The thought sneaks in before I can stop it.
But he doesn’t. He watches me, his hand still on my shoulder, his fingers barely brushing the fabric of my shirt. My skin burns under it, hyper-aware of every shift, every slow inhale.
And then he moves.
Not forward. Not to take.
And a part of me is disappointed. He drops his forehead against my shoulder, exhales deep, like he’s trying to calm himself. His body is warm against mine, his weight heavy.
I feel the slow drag of his breath along my neck.
His fingers trace a path down my arm, almost shaking with need. “Partner,” he mutters, his voice rough, thick. “You smell good.”
I close my eyes.Fuck.
He stays there, breathing me in, his fingers flexing like he’s debating holding on. Like he wants to. I feel it in the way his chest moves, colliding tenderly with mine, the way his jaw clenches against my skin.
For a second, I think he might give in. I want him to give in…
But then, he steps back. Just like that. Like nothing happened.
That smirk is back, practiced, calm, like he hadn’t made something explode inside me with a single touch.
“Let’s go eat,” he says.
Like I can even breathe right now.
I stand up straighter, resisting the urge to step back from the heat rolling between us. But I shake my head, a small smile tugging at my lips.
“Not tonight,” I reply.
“So, no team bonding tonight?”
I try to look away, but my chest flutters, betraying me. “I miss cooking at home,” I say, keeping it light, pretending I don’t feel the warmth spreading through me at the way he asked that, almost sadly.
“Invite me, then.”
And I freeze.
