Page 67 of Broken Skulls

I’m amazed by how much she’s talking to me.

“I’m sorry,” she says, mistaking the look on my face to mean she’s asking too many questions.

“Don’t be sorry. I like that you’re interested in me.”

Her head drops, and a pink tinge brushes over her face. God, she’s beautiful.

“I was twelve. Could you open the curtains?” I point to the windows. “This room has the most sun, but it’s only in the morning. I’ve always wanted to figure out a better place for them.”

She walks away from me. “I like talking to you, and listening to the sound of your voice,” she admits now that her back is to me.

When she pushes the curtains open, little rainbows burst over the room … and her face.

Fuck.

“Jacob!” she squeals, rushing over and taking the watering can from me.

I stare at the puddle on the ground for a second before raising my eyes to her.

There’s not one thing in this world I need at the moment … I have everything. Slowly, I draw my finger over her face. Her eyes fall closed. “I’m a simple man, Elizabeth.”

“Simple sounds nice,” she says quietly.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Elizabeth

His warm lips press against mine. It makes me dizzy.

I’ve wasted so much time. Or have I? Maybe it was always meant to happen this way. How else would I have found him?

He moans into my mouth, and it does things to me. It reminds me of last night. I squeeze my thighs together, hoping to curb the ache that is settling there.

I’m not sure if I want to avoid talking about last night, or if I simply need to feel his hands on me, but I begin to slowly back toward the door. He follows, not wanting to break the kiss. I silently cheer.

I walk backward all the way to his bedroom. When we stop, he slowly pulls away. “Are you wanting this to forget?” he asks.

“No. I’m doing this to remember.”

A slow smile grows as he begins to remove me from my, or I should say his, clothes. “Good answer,” he says right before he pushes me to the bed with a single finger to the chest.

I quickly scoot back, enjoying the show of him undressing himself.

“Don’t think you’re going to get out of talking about last night,” he warns me while climbing on the bed.

“Mhhmm,” I hum, my gaze roaming over his body.

He grabs my cheeks in one of his hands, forcing me to look him in the eye. I’m pretty sure he was about to give me a lecture, but his mind begins to wander from its mission. “God, you’re beautiful.”

I sit up, bringing my face as close as I can without touching him. When my hands come up to cup his scruffy cheeks, he sucks in a breath. I continue to touch his face, letting my fingers trail lightly over his skin. “I’ve been living in the fog for so long.”

“Shh,” he whispers, pushing me back against the pillows.

He stands over me on his knees and begins to stroke himself. His fingers grip lightly, almost teasingly. “Do you want to touch me, Elizabeth?”

My gaze meets his. “More than I’ve wanted anything in a very long time.” I reach out, but he stops me. His warm fingers wrap around my hand.

“Do you know what I loved most about last night?” he asks, bringing our hands closer to his cock.

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