Page 38 of Broken Pieces
She’s my weakness; my lifeline; my anchor, all in one.
Her initial shock melts away as she responds to my kiss with equal intensity. Our anger, our confusion, and our desires all merge in this passionate livid moment, like liquid fucking fire. The intensity of our connection grows with each passing second. With every kiss; every lick; every ragged breath. Her lips are warm and soft beneath mine,and the taste of her isintoxicating. Her sweet, light scent is dizzying and addicting in a way I didn’t think possible.
She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer, as though she’s just as starved as I am. The world around us fades, and all that matters is the taste of her, the feel of her, the way her touch makes me feel, and the electricity that unravels between us.
My tongue clashes with hers, and I let out an appreciative groan that she swallows with her lips. This feels right. Good.Meantto be.Madefor me. Our kiss is a divine revelation, one I can’t get enough of. Opening my eyes and to the possibility of what we can be.
My hands travel from the nape of her neck, tracing her back all the way down to her ass, where I grip and bring her closer to me. There is zero space between us as we keep kissing, licking, and nipping and she’s still not close enough. I want more, more,more. My lips feel numb, but I refuse to stop, because the sensation is euphoric, too much and not enough, all at once.
The feeling of his lips on top of mine is better than I could have imagined. It’s taunting, passionate;exciting. His cologne envelops me, with its smoky wood tones, pushing me to the brink of insanity. As my body melts into his, a wave of dread hits me like a cold tide, and I push him away, our ragged breaths filling the silence.
What did I just do?
Anxiety takes over me as I start pacing back and forth. He’s my boss, and I’ve grown to like this job. Granted, I’ve only been working with him for a few months, but I love the work we’re doing at the gallery. I love the fact that I have full creative control. Why did I let him kiss me? Better yet… Why didhekissme? He isn’t known for relationships, quite the opposite, actually. Gossip columns and the newsalways speculate when Damian will bring a woman into his life. Why is he doing this? To have a one-night stand?
This is fucking insane. I’m not sleeping with my fucking boss.
Yeah, but that feeling between your legs says otherwise.
Should I just get it over with? A one-time thing to get this growing need out of the way? No. That’s totally insane.
Or is it?
Okay, Aria. Pull yourself together. You’re spiraling.
Having a breakdown in front of him isn’t a fucking option. I’m better than that.
In a rush, I hail a passing cab, its approach signaled by the growing headlights. He looks at me, confusion on his face evident as his eyes flash with concern andhurt, and God, that look just kills me. I don’t want to hurt him, but I can’t do this. One of us is going to end up hurt. That’s the only possible outcome. Opening the cab’s door without a second thought and getting in, I firmly shut the door. He runs to the door and starts pounding the window, calling my name.
I can’t do this. I can’t even look him in the eyes. I’m so ashamed.
My chest tightens, as a feeling I know all too well floods through me.
The clammy hands. Sweating profusely as I shiver from the cold that I know doesn’t exist at this moment. Everysound around me is starting to fade, and my breathing is getting shorter by the second.
Yup. I’m having a panic attack.
This is just great. Thelastthing I need.
Getting non-stop panic attacks throughout my whole childhood while my parents fought, or as my mother would tell me everything was my fault is something I can instantly recognize. I hate this fucking crawly feeling around my chest, like a monster trying to take me away.
It’s not fucking real, Aria. Snap out of it.
Focusing on what’s happening around me helps cease the panic attacks most of the time, so I just need to focus.
Focus. Focus. Focus.
Almost all the noise has faded away, but I can faintly hear Damian’s screaming at the cab driver in a foreign language. Italian, maybe?
The door of the car opens and he sits next to me. His hands reach my face, but I can’t feel them. I’m too far gone, but at the same time, all too aware of how far gone I am and it’s making the anxiety worse.
Desperately scanning my surroundings in the tiny cab, I try to find anything to anchor me. As if guided by some cosmic force, my eyes lock onto this. His mesmerizing shade of emerald green draws me in, offering a moment of relief from the storm that’s brewing inside my head. The corners of his eyes deepen with worry and understanding, and somehow, that helps me feel better.Seen.
With every intentional breath, I force myself to focus on his eyes, finding tranquility in his gaze.
“You’re okay,” he whispers, kissing my forehead before placing my head on his chest. “You’re okay.”
I nod, holding back tears as I come to the realization that Damian’s presence has become the anchor I didn’t know I needed.
