Page 59 of Amnesty

“Eddie,” I whispered.

He didn’t say anything. Nothing at all.

But his eyes.

Dear God, his eyes.They said more than words ever would. The intensity he emanated vibrated the air around us. I loved that force, the near obsession I felt when he looked at me like that. If I were ever going to be the victim of an obsession, I would wholly surrender to him.

Leaning down, he gathered me close and stood, slowly turning so he was beneath the spray, blocking it from my eyes.

He was completely dressed—white T-shirt, jeans, and Adidas. His hair was now partially wet. I watched the dry stands drink up the moisture and melt around his head. Water dripped off his square jawline and onto his shirt.

He acted as if he didn’t even notice being completely dressed in a shower and me being naked.

It was sort of symbolic, though, wasn’t it?

It represented how I always felt with him. Exposed. See-through. An open book. Sure, a lot of my pages might be blank, but they were open to him.

And he was clothed, not quite so easy to figure out. Yet as he stood there, becoming more and more saturated, his clothes grew thinner… more sheer.

I loved him. I loved him so much it seemed the emotion had the ability to kill me. I didn’t know it was possible to love someone that much.

To hurt for them.

To be jealous when I had no right to be.

To be equally obsessed.

I knew my eyes were swollen; my cheeks hurt and were puffy. My lips were likely red from me chewing them, and my nose was stuffy. He’d heard me sobbing. There was no way he didn’t.

I couldn’t even stand here and pretend I was fine, that everything was fine.

It wasn’t.

He knew it just as well as I.

The second he lifted me off the shower floor, I stopped crying. All of him except for a few rogue curls was completely drenched now. His eyes remained trained on mine. I watched him stare at me, hoping my eyes conveyed even a fraction of what his did.

Water slipped in my mouth when our lips met and mine parted. He wiped it away with his tongue and kept going. I clung to his shoulders as he kissed me deep. Emotion rose inside me, and I forced it into my reply. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, how scared I was, and how vulnerable I felt. I couldn’t say the words, but my lips told him anyway.

Using my teeth, I bit down gently, tugging his lower lip and sucking it into my mouth.

Eddie backed me up until my back pressed against the shower wall, then lifted me. I wound my legs around his waist, wrapping my arms tighter around his shoulders. His mouth ripped away, a deep gasp filling the room as he sucked in air, then dove into my neck, sucking the flesh deep and then smoothing it out with his tongue.

My head fell to the side as he continued to suck and nibble across my collarbone and latch onto my shoulder. My hips spasmed against him, but neither of us acknowledged the movement.

I felt boneless, completely light, as if I were floating. My body was pinned between him and the wall, his fingers roaming everywhere. One of my hands found its way into his wet curls, fisted there, and tugged his face up.

His eyes flashed to mine.

There was anger there. Desire. Love. It all swirled together to create the kind of cocktail that got a girl drunk with just one sip.

Oh, I was drunk.

I might never be sober again.

I attacked his mouth. He groaned into me, and I swallowed the sound. We kissed fiercely, almost violently. It felt so good to channel all the emotion inside me, to get it out so passionately.

Eddie ripped his mouth away again and pulled back enough so he could latch onto my breast. I cried out and arched into him as he sucked deep. My body trembled, desire so great it made me quake.

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