Page 43 of Crossed
Her hand raises to wrap around the ends of her hair before she pauses, blowing out a deep breath. “Yes, but I—” She shakes her head. “It’s late and I shouldn’t have come. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
I smile because it’salwaysher keeping me awake, whether she’s here or not.
“Non,” I reply. “I’m always available for you, no matter the time.”
Moving to the side, I gesture for her to come in, although there’s something screaming deep in my gut to turn her away. That if I let her inside, there will be no going back. Her scent will be in my home, and the memory of how she fits here will be etched into the walls like scripture on stone.
She moves through the entry, and my stomach twists when she brushes by me.
I turn and close the door, flicking the lock in place and staring at her back as she stands in the center of the living room, looking around.
I could kill her now and be done with it.
My fingers twitch at the possibility, my mouth going dry at imagining her heartbeat growing faint beneath my hands. I move closer, my muscles tensing in anticipation.
She shakes her head again, spinning to face me, and when her eyes meet mine, my footsteps halt.
“I probably shouldn’t have come.” She smiles. “I just needed to think and kind of ended up here.”
The need inside me mutates into curiosity. “And what is it you have to think about that you can’t do at home?” I press, taking another step toward her. “Do you need to confess, Amaya?” She laughs and it makes my chest pull tight.
“According to you? Probably.” Now it’s her who moves closer. “Truthfully, I’ve been debating all day whether I should hunt you down and thank you.”
She continues toward me until she’s mere centimeters away, her neck craned and her green gaze peering at me through her lashes, like an innocent doe presenting herself at the feet of a predator.
My cock pulses, blood rushing to fill it until it presses uncomfortably against my slacks.
As usual, when she’s around, there’s a battle waging war inside me.
“So thank me then,” I demand.
She bites into her lower lip as she blinks at me, and the urge to reach out and replace her teeth with my own is so strong, my stomach flips.
“I know it was you who requested Quin be included in the festival,” she states.
“Oui.”
She moves in again, the smell of vanilla wrapping around my senses and tugging until my equilibrium feels off-center.
My cock is throbbing now, and I slip my hands into my pockets so I don’t grip her arms and haul her into me, just to feel how warm she is against my flesh. My jaw ticks when her mouth parts, her breasts moving in an uneven rhythm from her heavy breaths.
Merde.
“I’d do the same for any child,” I force out, although it’s far from the truth.
My words do the trick, and her gaze clears, widening slightly as she takes a giant step back.
“Right.” she says, running a hand through her wavy hair. “Anyway, I should go home. I just…”
I don’t reply, allowing her to move past me and make it all the way back to the front door.
“Amaya,” I call out right before she leaves.
Come back here. Let me taste you. Touch you. End you.
“Come to Mass on Sunday.”
The corner of her mouth tilts up, her eyes meeting mine for a split second before she’s gone.
