Page 55 of Obsession

Can he hear how fast my heart beats? Can he feel the way my skin heats?

Can he see the flush that creeps over my body because we’re touching?

I’m intoxicated from lack of sleep and adrenaline from all the events of the day.

I try to keep my body erect so my head doesn’t snuggle up in that hollow of his neck like I want it to. “You’re crossing a line here, you know.”

“Doing what?”

Thumpgoes my heart. “Touching me.”

A beat passes before he responds. “I know.” It’s dark in here save for the yellowed pool of a nightlight beside the bed, but even with the shades drawn and lights dimmed, I can tell this room’s outfitted in luxury. I don’t care.

He could have had one of his men show me the way. He could have pointed or gestured or even just walked beside me.

I need him. I need what his team can do for me. I have to make sure I don’t say or do anything that jeopardizes what I need.

He’s still holding me. I’m barely breathing, afraid if I move too quickly, I’ll wake and find I was only dreaming.

Men don’t touch women like me, and those that even think about it face the consequences.

I want him to know it’s okay, or maybe I just want to assure myself.

So I reach my hand to his jaw and do what I wanted to from the first time I saw him. I lay my hand on his stubbled jaw, thrilled at the prickly feel.

“I’ll help you find your sister,” I whisper.

Heat flares in his eyes. “You will. And we’ll find your parents’ killers.”

I swallow, not sure what else to say.

I have to get ahold of myself.

“You could put me down, now.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own, all breathy and whispery yet somehow husky. I feel…sexy.

How does he make me feel sexy?

“I could.”

Still, he doesn’t.

I want him to kiss me, but there’s no telling what will happen if he does.

Just a kiss,I taunt myself.What harm could come from a kiss?

His eyes spark at me, like he’s reading my mind. Maybe he can, I think in my sleepy state. He’s already larger than life and fearless. It only makes sense that he has superhuman abilities too.

I feel as if I’m standing on the edge of a precipice. One gust of wind, and I’ll plummet to my death.

But I’ve always been more afraid of complacency than taking chances.

Slowly, so slowly at first I think it’s my woozy, exhausted imagination, he bends his head a bit closer to me. I stare at his full, gorgeous lips, and imagine what it would be like to lick and bite them. I wonder what he tastes like.

Fire licks through me.

My eyes rove over his stubble, then down to his neck. I watch him swallow. The cuts he sustained are no longer bleeding, but the skin’s an angry red between his collarbone and neck.

“You’re hurt,” I say in a hushed tone. And before I know what I’m doing, my hands are at his neck to anchor myself and I’m pulling myself closer to him. My lips meet his skin, kissing it better. I feel like I could cry.

---