Page 97 of A Love Like Venom

Some are fleeting. Passing you by like a blink of the eye.

Others are lasting. Staying with you until the very last second. You’re able to recall every detail. How it made you feel. What it smelled like that day. It awakens all your senses, bringing you back to that specific time.

In life people say there are important and unimportant moments.

But to me each moment is important. Every moment no matter how dull or grand affects your life.

Even the ones that are the most painful and tragic. Without those moments we wouldn’t be able to recognize the beautiful ones.

Every moment is important.

That doesn’t stop us from holding certain ones closer to the heart. Storing them in our brain to remember again on another day.

And this moment . . .

This moment right here is one I want to last forever. One that I never want to forget.

With his strong arms wrapped tightly around me I feel protected.

Safe.

Cherished.

Home.

Being in his arms feels like home.

The steady rise and fall of his chest against my back indicates that he is still in a heavy sleep.

Unlike me where I’m wide awake, hypersensitive to his every touch.

My body is molded to his. Like a puzzle piece I fit perfectly. There’s no slither of space between.

His hand strong and callused lays right underneath my breast. The touch innocent but has me thinking anythingbutinnocent thoughts.

I’m flushed just thinking of how his hand would feel cupping my breast. My nipples harden in response. Even with him asleep and unaware of my dirty thought my cheeks flame with embarrassment.

With his other arm that is wrapped on the underside of my body his hand is splayed against my stomach.

My shirt is ridden up just slightly so I can feel the barest touch of his fingers on my bare skin.

And it’s enough to drive any woman wild.

I don’t know how I stand any chance when it comes to him.

My blood has always hummed with desire upon seeing him. His touch has always affected me even when it shouldn’t have.

Because Reed Carter is the only person whose touch sets my skin on fire.

He makes me feel alive.

A stark contrast to the touches I’ve had the horrible experience of enduring. Touches that made me wither and die.Where I could feel the ice filling my veins and dread in the pit of my stomach.

The men who touched me before took from me. They took what wasn’t theirs. And they did it without any remorse.

Their rough hands that felt like knives against my skin made me feel worthless. Like I was nothing but an empty vessel built for their sick twisted amusement.

A shudder wracks though my body as I remember how each of their hands swept across my skin.

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