Page 38 of Chemistry: The Chemist

One minute, you’re passion. Next, you’re pain

“You’re driving me mad,” I admitted, aching all over.

His lips brushed against my ear, weakening me.

“They matter.”

His never-ending quest to confuse me was always successful. Right or wrong, I wasn’t sure if I was either.

Still, I longed for him. More of him. Regardless of what came from his mouth or how much he furrowed those thick brows, that any woman would kill for.

“You’re intolerable.”

He’d claimed I was, but I felt more of the same.

“I know.”

Silence hovered before he spoke again.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. But when I figure it out, I want you right here. Still.”

He’d reached my core with his words. Leaving him so soon didn’t feel possible anymore. I wanted to stay, but I knew I couldn’t. It was time to part ways, as difficult as that might’ve seemed.

His lips rested against mine as he struggled, internally, with his next move. I made the decision for him. I wasn’t as poised. As calculated. As critical. Not with him, at least. I sunk my teeth in his top lip, not pulling back until I heard him wince from pain.

When his mouth slacked in surprise, I stuck my tongue inside, desperate to taste the blood I’d drawn. His fingers loosened around mine. I felt them, seconds later, on the sides of my face, deepening our kiss. Deepening our connection. When he’d had enough, he pushed away.

Lowered lids and glossed eyes told of his inebriation because he wasn’t willing. Drunkenly, we both stumbled into the shower where lingering touches and longing stares continued. We cleansed our bodies and exited the shower without exploring more of each other physically. Mentally, however, it was out of our control.

Blindfolded, he delivered me to my address without ever asking for it. I climbed out of the truck with him on my tail. Just before the entrance, he stopped.

I fought the urge to invite him up. He, too, was fighting something. Not even the dark shades, fitted cap, and hoodie could conceal his hunger.

“Eden,” he called out, stopping me in my tracks.

“Yes.”

He paused, confirming his next choice of words was suitable.

“I enjoyed every second of our encounter.”

Stunned by his confession, I placed a hand on my chest where it hurt.

“When will I see you again?”

“When I’m ready.”

“When you’re ready? Miste–”

“I’m not selfish in my decision, Eden. I just have a lot of shit going on up here. Give me time. I’m overstimulated.”

I’d been there. I understood exactly where he was.

“Then, a number. A name. Something. How will I contact you when I can’t stand the time between us any longer?”

“When you need me, I’ll know. And I’ll come. Always.”

Always. That must’ve been wondrous. Always having someone like him near.

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