“You’re dealing with your own form of betrayal from him?—”
“No.” He comes closer. “No, damn it. My brain is telling me to stay true to Elora. I loved her. I can only ever love her. And this fucking attraction to you is overwhelming andendless. Do you think I want to want you? Do you think craving you iseasy?”
My jaw drops, but no words come out.
“It’s not,” he whispers. His hand slides around my neck, to my nape. His nails dig into my skin, and he drags me toward him. “It’s the worst torture I’ve endured.”
His lips slam into mine.
I gasp into his mouth, my brain still caught betweencravingandtorture.It fast forwards to our parting lips, the chase of his tongue in my mouth. It’s furious and sweet at the same time.
I press up on my toes, clutching at his shirt. All I can hear is the rushing of my blood in my ears. The headache, the bone-deep ache, it all becomes secondary to this kiss.
He’s kissing me.
I’m kissing him back.
Knowing he feels just as guilty as me soothes some of the knots in my stomach. My fingers hook into the waistband of his jeans, and I yank him closer. He groans into my mouth. I almost draw back, but his fingers tense against my nape. Keeping me with him.
This is happening?
We’ve fucked. Fucking, in retrospect, had practically no intimacy.
And this is the complete opposite. It’s just akiss, and I may as well be standing in front of him with my soul cupped in my hands.
Letting him examine it.
The elevator doors slide open, but I can’t stop.
He doesn’t either. I angle my head and suck his tongue into my mouth. My heart pounds. He tastes like watermelon.
The doors close.
He chuckles into my mouth. We’re swept upward, and I finally push back against his chest just as it stops at a new floor.
We separate, me stuck to my wall and Saint stepping back to press his spine to the other. His eyes are wide, his cheeks flushed. I’m sure I look no better, but the couple that enters don’t seem to notice. They hit the button for the lobby.
I carefully run my fingers through my hair. It’s still quite damp, and every tug through it spikes pain along my scalp.
You know what would fix it?
A drug that I’m not going to think about.
The elevator chimes. Saint and I follow the couple out into the lobby, but I pause. I don’t actually have a plan for where to go or what to do. If I was alone…
“Come on,” Saint murmurs.
We walk in silence. My joints hurt, but I push it aside for the peace between us. It’s too rare, and I find myself hesitant to open my mouth.
What if I ruin it?
I could easily say something snappy, and he would retort with a patronizing comment. It would dissolve into an argument, and the peace would vanish like it was never here in the first place.
By our third turn, I know where we’re going.
Starlight.
My chest tightens, but I don’t say anything until we’re standing in front of the tattoo shop. He unlocks the door and ushers me in, and I glare at him.
