Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
New feelings swirl through me every time I so much as think about her.
Unable to resist anymore, I excuse myself and walk into the house, keeping my gaze fixed forward, so I don’t accidentally join another circle of partiers.
It’s not that I have anything against anybody here.
The opposite is true. I’m so grateful they came.
But I can’t go another minute without hearing her voice. It’s like that woman hitting on me has driven home how hungrily I need her as if Danielle is so much brighter for being reflected by the other woman.
Any other woman. Nobody can compare with her.
She turns as I walk into the kitchen. All around us, the sounds of the party rise up. There’s music and talk and, in the garden, somebody laughs loudly. But in here, we’re alone, not even anybody in the hallway behind us, though I can hear voices coming from the living room.
Insane and self-destructive notions hit me, like surging forward and wrapping her in my arms.
She takes a couple of steps toward me, her eyes wide, innocent, and begging for her man to show her the way.
To kiss her. To let her know she doesn’t have to worry anymore.
“Hello, Damien,” she says in a strangely distant voice.
I wonder if it takes as much for her to hold herself back as it does for me. Perhaps she’s constantly trying to fight this desire, too, caught up in the whirlwind of it.
I move even closer to her, her scent rises around me, perfume clashing with just her. I want to reach over and brush my hands through her hair. I feel the need to embrace her, place my hands on her hips, and pull her into me.
“Hello,” I say after a long pause.
“Are you enjoying your party?” she asks.
Despite the garden being right there, beyond the window – despite the risk – I move even closer. The texts return to me with savage force, yelling at me to take this to the next level.
“I can think of other things I’d rather be doing,” I say, my voice getting deep.
“Oh really? Like cooking?”
Something flashes across her eyes, almost like a warning, like she’s silently telling me to remember we’re supposed to be surface-level and casual.
“Cooking bores me,” I say, my voice getting even huskier.
She shakes her head, laughing. I’m agonizingly aware of how simple it would be to take the final step so that our bodies are close enough to give in to all our need for each other and the never-ending pressure of it.
“Really?” she says.
“Lately, it does,” I tell her. “I’ll do my duty with the restaurant. I won’t half-ass anything. But yeah, it’s boring me. Everything is.”
“Why?” she whispers.
I look over my shoulder, a dark feeling touching me when I reflect on the necessity of it. We said we’d act normal, but it’s too much. She’s too close, her scent strong, her body tempting, her eyes made to gaze into, her lips made to kiss.
When I see we’re alone, I turn back to her.
My whole body is beating powerfully in rhythm with my heart.
She stares up at me, biting her lip briefly, making her look sexy and beautiful… or sexier, more beautiful.
“Why do you think?” I laugh gruffly. “You, Danielle.”
“Damien…” She looks over her shoulder, out the garden window, then spins back to me. “We said….”
“I know what we said,” I snap, taking another step so that her breasts are almost brushing against my torso. “But it’s the truth. I can’t think about anything else, focus on anything else. I need you.”
I’m getting too close to the total truth, the one that will definitely make her back off.
You’re going to have my babies. You’re going to be mine forever.
She takes a step back. Her expression scrunches up as if distancing herself from me causes her pain. And I feel it, reflected in me, that same agony of being apart. As though our bodies, our beings, our everything were designed to be together and only together.
“We can’t do this here,” she whispers.
“I know,” I say gravely. “But we have to do it somewhere.”
She stares at me for a few moments. She looks so vulnerable somehow like she’s afraid everything’s going to come crashing down. That’s a reasonable way to feel since Max is out there at the party, and we’re in here, betraying him.
If Danielle agrees to meet, I’ll be able to talk with her about telling Max.
Or is that just an excuse to get her alone?
“I know,” she replies after a pause. “But we can’t even discuss that here. T-text me about it?”
I don’t miss the shiver in her voice, the way her cheeks become a deeper shade of red. It takes everything to keep my hands at my sides, not to cradle her face in my hands, to feel the heat of her.