Page 79 of The Devil Wears Tartan

“I don’t have anything figured out.” Her voice is hollow, distant—like it’s coming from some deep and secret part of her I’ve only caught glimpses of over the past few months. “Every day, I feel like everything I have is seconds away from getting ripped out of my hands, like there’s this big pit waiting to open up under my feet and swallow it all down before it eats me up too. I fucking dream about it, about falling and falling and falling. I...”

Her forehead creases, two deep lines forming between her eyes. She looks so lost, like she’s halfway to falling already, but before I can reach across the table to steady her, she pushes up to her feet and wraps her arms around herself. I watch as she takes a few steps closer to one of the mirrored walls, her eyes on her reflection.

“You felt like you were faking your way through life,” she says. “You think I don’t know how that feels, but I do. These clothes, my job at RSA, every medal I’ve ever won...sometimes it feels like it’s all happened to somebody else, like the world is going to take it all back someday, and I’ll be nothing.”

My heart lurches at the bite in her tone, like she really can look in that mirror and not see a single one of the amazing things I see when I’m staring at her.

“Maybe I don’t deserve to be more,” she continues. “You’re worried you don’t want enough, but sometimes I’m worried I want too much. I’m worried I’m going to pay for it. I’m worried all the time. The only time I’m not is when...”

Her eyes find mine in the mirror, and I feel my throat tense.

“It used to only be when I was dancing,” she whispers, “but now...now it’s also when I’m with you.”

She spins around to face me, and even though my legs are shaking, I still push myself to my feet. Blood is rushing in my ears, and I’m not sure what I’m doing or what will happen next. All I know is I have to get to her.

She meets me halfway, and when we’re a breath apart, we freeze.

Her fingers trail up my arm, and I shiver. Her gaze is pinned to my lips. I can almost taste her already, and I can feel her everywhere. She smells like sweet vanilla perfume, just like she did the first night I brought her here.

Just when I’m about to lean in, she cups her palm around my elbow and steps back, a sly grin on her face. The expression sends a thrill shooting through me, and it takes me a second to figure out what she’s doing.

Then I grin too.

I flip my hand up to grip her elbow the same way she’s holding mine, and without speaking, we shift into position for a Reel turn.

The room is silent, but we don’t need any music to fall into perfect step with one another. We whirl through the turn, spinning around our point of contact in a flawless circle with our gazes locked.

We keep going longer than we would in an actual Reel, spinning and spinning until I’m dizzy and the only thing I can keep still is her. My chest heaves when we finally stop. She stares back at me with fire in her eyes, and even though the floor is still lurching underneath me, I lunge for her.

We crash together with what feels like a static shock, electricity arcing out from everywhere we touch. Her mouth is on mine, and my hands are in her hair as she claws at my back to pull me closer.

She moans into my mouth when I part her lips with my tongue. I tug on her hair to tilt her head back and trail kisses down her throat while she flounders with the buttons of my shirt.

I chuckle against her skin and reach down to help her, just long enough to get my shirt open while she does the same with her cardigan. We drop both garments to the floor and wrap our arms around each other again, her bare chest flush with mine over my bra.

“You’re just too gorgeous.” I moan the words as I let my hands roam up the smooth, warm skin of her back, my eyes on our reflection in the mirrors as she tugs my earlobe between her teeth.

I hiss and grip her hips hard. When she arches her back to press herself against me, I almost lose it. Every flex of her muscles is mesmerizing.

We’re mesmerizing, the shape of us intertwined in the mirror so entrancing I can’t look away. I wrap the ends of her hair around one of my fists and watch the strands ripple in the light. Her teeth are grazing my shoulder now, and even my bra feels like way too much of a barrier between us.

Like she’s read my mind, she reaches behind me to tug on the clasp. I pull away just long enough to yank the bra down my arms and fling it to the floor before reaching for her again. I feel her taut nipples brush my bare chest, and my thighs clench.

We kiss like starving people, like we’re finally eating a meal we’ve waited years for. Nothing else is enough.

Just when I think I won’t be able to stand up any longer, she tugs on my arms and leads us down to the ground. We land in a tangled heap, her hips straddling mine as she leans over me to capture my mouth again.

The studio floor is hard and cold under my back, but I don’t care. There’s something wild about her taking me down like this, our need so heedless and impatient there’s no option but right here and now.

When she shifts to start trailing her mouth down my neck, I tilt my head to watch us in the mirror again. My whole body burns when I feel her hot breath on my chest. When I see her lips close around my nipple, I can’t help gasping her name and bucking my hips up underneath her.

She moans and flexes against me, the two of us grinding against each other as she sucks and licks until I’m shaking and so wet for her all I can think of is the way her tongue will feel between my legs.

No one’s ever made me this desperate. No one’s ever made me this bold.

She makes me feel special, desirable, sexy.

She makes me feel like more than enough.

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