Page 78 of Verses Of Us

“Explaining what you meant to me is like explaining why I’m moved by a song, or why some days I wake up and know I’m going to have a great day.”

Unable to tear his eyes away, he watched her, but grew acutely aware of how her thumb kept moving back and forth along his forearm.

“There’s nothing rational about it. I just know it deep inside.” She blinked and ripped her hand away. Ciarán’s eyes followed the movement. “Iknewit,” she corrected, her mouth twitching. “There was something unique about you. You’re complex, and you’ve got this darkness, but you can also light up a room. And I believed you saw me, too, for who I was, and not for what I could give you because when we were together…”

She broke off as if remembering who she was with and gave a shrug. “Sorry, I’m rambling…” she tacked on, shaking her head, her eyes dropping low.

His heart ached. He wished to be close to her again. He wanted to deserve her openness and not be the asshole who broke her heart. “Don’t stop. I like it when you ramble.” Ciarán dipped his head lower. “Continue Lex. Please.”

“I’m just saying there were many reasons for how I felt about you…” She laced her fingers, shoving her hands between her legs, and he noticed how glossy her eyes had become. “But that was ages ago. Why do you need to know this?”

He puffed out his cheeks, gauging the right words to use. “I’ve been struggling lately. There are these regrets that keep sticking around and… I have questions.” His jaw tightened. “I’ve wondered where I went wrong. What I could have done differently. And I keep asking myself how someone like you could have wanted someone like me.”

“Me and all your other fans, you mean?”

“No, not them. Just you.” In the dim light of the bar, her eyes looked like jade and lured him in. He reached out and took her hand. “You know I never lumped you in with the rest of them. You were never anything like them.” His thumb formed a trail over her skin. “Do you ever miss it?”

“What?” Her small hand twitched in his.

“Us. Together.”

She stiffened and drew in a long breath, as if sorting through her thoughts, trying to find the perfect thing to say. Alexis never failed with her honesty, though she typically mulled over the best way to express it. Only then did he feel the depth of how much he had missed her.

“More often than I’d care to admit.”

Pleased with the words she’d chosen, he beamed. “Yeah, me too.”

He drew her hand to his mouth and caressed her knuckles, hesitating before planting a kiss. The softness of her skin against his lips ignited something deep inside; the same illogical yet primal urge he always got when she was near.

She leaned in, her breasts grazing his arm, and whispered his name.

A smile hinted at his lips. “Yes, Lex?”

“Want to get out of here?”

LOST

Alexis

Theentirewayupto her floor, their hands and lips never stopped touching. They tumbled out of the elevator, like drunk teenagers, Ciarán holding her hips, his fingers pressing into her skin with heavy need.

At the door to her room, Alexis fought with the contents of her purse, searching for her key card, too distracted by Ciarán’s kisses on her neck to remember it was in her back pocket. When she reached to get it, she felt him pressed up against her, hard.

Inside, Ciarán tugged her toward the bed. She dropped her purse to the floor, hurriedly kicking off her shoes, trying not to stumble.

They paused and stared at each other, the earnest lust in his gaze reaching deep inside her. He brought his hands up to frame her face, and when he drew her mouth to his, his lips curved into a smile as they collapsed onto the bed.

Ciarán’s fingers grazed over her chest as he unbuttoned her blouse. But then he pulled away and took her in. Timid, she became unsettled by the intensity of his gaze and tugged her blouse shut.

He took her hands. “No. Don’t.”

She released her grip and let the blouse fall open, focusing instead on the gentle touch of his fingers travelling along the curve of her breasts and the warmth it sent rushing between her legs. His hooded eyes locked on hers, ripping away all her worries. All that remained was the confidence she’d never wanted another man so much before.

Reaching for the hem of his sweater, she peeled it off, splaying her hands against his chest where the black hair was now peppered with some white. There was some give beneath her palms, his body not as firm as it used to be, but then again, neither was hers. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing. She would be forty next year, and though she occasionally did yoga and ate as well as she could, she knew her body was nowhere near the tight, youthful one she had in her twenties.

Ciarán’s fingers continued to travel across her skin, her stomach, over her waist, and again, she shied away, shifting. His mouth hovered at her neck, right below her ear.

“What’s wrong?” His deep voice sent shivers across her sensitive skin.

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