Page 47 of Moonlit Temptation

“I’ve been set on autopilot for years, never letting myself stop or slow down. I’ve been too afraid that if I did, the things I’ve been running from would catch up to me. Ever since the shit went down with my dad, I’ve just been going through life without feeling.” He drummed his fingers on my thighs. “The other night with you was the first time I stopped to just breathe in years. The first time I didn’t feel like I had to run. I could just be.”

He was just starting to breathe while mine was currently trapped in my chest.

Saint spoke with such honesty, it left me immobile, not expecting to have such an effect on him. “You bring me peace.”

“Why?” The word left on a croak. Why me?

“I know your family hasn’t done a very good job at telling you, but do you truly not see how amazing you are?” He didn’t give me room to answer. “I’m going to tell you this, and I need you to really hear me. You, my little dove, have this wildfire inside you, making you burn brighter than anyone else in the room. Don’t let them ever try to put it out.”

“You keep doing this,” I whispered.

“Doing what?” he whispered back.

“Surprising me with just how much of me you see.”

No one, not even my siblings, saw the fire I always felt burning inside me. It was a steady heat, a constant hum.

My mom did, though. She used to say that I couldn’t sit still because fires weren’t made to be contained. They were made to run free.

“I’ve always seen you.” His voice dropped an octave, husky with passion. “It’s only been recently that I started noticing you in ways I shouldn’t, but I’ve always seen you, Mady.”

I’ve always seen you, Mady.

He had never tried to smother my flames.

Tears pricked my eyes and I tried to blink them away. It felt too much, these admissions he bestowed on me.

It was as if he plucked the words from my soul and arranged them into a bouquet.

“Fuck, Mady. Don’t cry.” He shot up, pulling me into his chest. “I didn’t say it to make you cry.”

“I’m not,” I promised, pushing away just enough to study his face. “I just wasn’t expecting to hear that.” I blinked my eyes a couple of times. “Just give me a minute, it’ll pass.”

For so many years, I had thought Saint was placed in my life to save me, to keep me company as an outcast of my family.

We were two outcasts who found shelter together.

A shelter that kept us hidden. This, whatever was developing between us, didn’t feel wrong. It felt right. Oh so right. But I knew that people outside this hotel room would view it differently.

He was eight years older than me.

I was freshly nineteen.

On paper alone, it looked erroneous.

They would call him sick while telling me I was violated. Say he used his power and status in my life to take advantage of me. No one would believe the young, naive girl had wanted this.

She hadn’t known what she wanted. Didn’t know any better.

These were the thoughts that kept me up at night long after I wanted to be asleep. I heard the whispers, could feel the judgment.

And it all felt like lies.

Especially since the more time I spent with Saint, the more I noticed the little, intimate things about him.

Like how he squinted too hard behind his blue-light glasses at his computer while working.

Or how he’d get this curious, almost pensive expression whenever I moved across the room, like he didn’t know why he was watching but couldn’t make himself look away.

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