Page 75 of Eden's Joker

Everythinghasto be all right. Because anything else would be pure hell.

This place is far from a wonderland and my adventure so far, apart from a few glorious, out of this world moments, has been a struggle. But it has been an adventure, and this could be wonderland. I might have been under the influence of a concussion last night, but I meant what I told him. I love him. I don’t know what to do with that. Except follow it where it leads, I guess. He didn’t say it back, but I’m pretty sure he feels the same way anyway. At least he promised not to hurt me.

He stirs and opens his eyes, checking my side of the bed, his eyes opening wider as he realizes I’m not there.

“Good morning,” I say, making his dawn-like eyes fix on me with all the intensity of the rising sun. “Or more like, good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon to you too,” he says. “Why don’t you come back to bed now?”

The way he asks, the way he looks at me as he does… no breeze could cool the heat rising in my center and quickly spreading with my blood.

There’s nothing else but to do as he asks. I couldn’t fight the pull if I tried. And I don’t try. Making the best of it, and all that. Having my adventure. Living for the now. I set the book down and walk to him, his eyes following my every move.

The blanket is covering his hips and legs, but his upper body is bare. It’s covered by scars and tattoos, a map of a life lived hard, and I want to explore everyroad, every drop of ink, every disturbance in the skin. I want to read it all as much as I ever wanted to read a book.

He takes my hand and pulls me closer, not satisfied until our lips meet in one of those kisses that comes once in a lifetime and is at the same time, a promise of a lifetime to come. I could just kiss him for years. I know that.

But right now, I want to get back to reading the rest of his story.

So I pull away from his lips. He grabs my arms, reminding me of a man drowning, clutching to the only available lifeline.

I smile as I straddle his hips, shivering as I feel his hard cock press against my pussy. He releases my arms and relaxes with a sigh.

“For a second there, I thought you were gonna run again,” he says with a grin.

I shake my head and run my hands down the sides of his neck, across his hard chest and rippled abs. Caressing the black and white ink and jagged scars. The joker is grinning at me from above his left nipple. A gravesite much like the one in this town adorns the space above his right. I’m sure that’s the names of his parents on those tombstones. Holly and Jacob.

“I only ran because I want to be with you,” I say.

He scoffs, grimacing in disbelief. “Come on now. Enough with the lies. You ran because I made you my prisoner. It was the only sane thing to do.”

I shake my head and caress him some more. The feel of his skin, his hard body under my fingers is more intoxicating than any drink I’ve ever had.

“Call me crazy, and I’m sure anyone would, but the prisoner part never really dawned on me,” I say. “Maybe you were right, maybe it’s because I’ve read too many books where this happens, and I was sure there’d be a happy ending.”

“Yeah,” he says. “To all those things.”

He runs his hands up my sides coming to a stop just below my breasts, groans softly but doesn’t say anything.

“The thing is, between all the messages we exchanged about books and then meeting… I got to know you very well,” I say and lock eyes with him. “I saw into your soul. So you couldn’t fool me once you tried to pretend none of that was real. Because that’s what was real. What came after, not so much.”

He’s looking at me, but in a way that makes me think he’s seeing himself more than me. He doesn’t have to agree or disagree. I already know what’s what.

I smile at him. “And I was right, wasn’t I? So there goes your whole theory.”

“You got me,” he says. “But now it’s time for a whole different kind of happy ending.”

And with that, he rips open the front of my dress, sending buttons flying everywhere. There goes another one of my dresses. But I’ve wanted to be naked for him for so long, it’s a very distant afterthought.

I’m about to come for him again. And this time it’ll be even better than before. Because this time we’ll come together.

I lean down and kiss him again, softly at first, then with more and more fire, desire, lust even. But it’s not just his lips I want to taste this time. I want to kiss all of him. And I start with his strong wide neck, tracing his racing heartbeat that pulses in the thick vein there.

His chest is next. He groans louder this time, as my lips trail down the center seam of his body, bypassing the ripples of his stomach all the way to where the blanket covers the part of him I really want to taste.

I look up at him. And as he looks back at me, I don’t think I’ve ever been this seen in my whole life.

“Don’t stop now,” he says hoarsely, his voice tense with pent up need.

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