Page 36 of Wrap Around
Silas lets out a small huff of sardonic laughter and shakes his head.
Suddenly, in two steps I don't remember giving my legs permission to take, I cross the space between us. Silas snaps to attention, moving away from me in a succession of short, quick stepsbackwards. My hand comes in contact with the warm skin on his chest, and I push him until his back hits the wall. I don't even stop when I see him wince. There isn't room for any other thought than pressing into him and crashing my mouth to his.
The kiss is hard. Punishing. Probably painful on his busted lip, if the taste of copper is any indication. It doesn't stop me though, it only feeds the monster inside me I can't seem to hold back any longer.
Every cell of my body buzzes, finally feeling something other than fear.
The fear of losing him. Of never getting to tell him. Of being too late.
Teeth clash and scrape. Silas' fingers are pressed so hard into my skin I'm sure there will be bruises, and I'm hanging onto him with just as much force, as if he could get away with me pressing him against the wall like I am. I don't think either of us are breathing. There’s no space to get a breath. There's no tenderness here. Only pain and desperation.
Before I know it, my fingers are digging into the meat of Silas' strong thigh as I hike his leg up around my waist and rut into him like some kind of animal in heat. He makes a strangled sound that vibrates my tongue, currently trying to snake its way down his throat.
It’s my undoing. Out of nowhere, I'm hit with pleasure so intense, my legs falter, but I don't stop grinding. We're gasping into each other's mouths, and Silas trembles, letting out a small whimper that makes my brain feel fuzzy.
I blink down at him, at the way I'm holding him with one hand gripping the spot where his thigh meets his ass, the other pushing him against the wall by the base of his throat. Silas looks up at me with dark amber eyes, some emotion that I can't name flickeringin his watery stare. He's flushed and sweaty, hair wild. His mouth is still open in an O of either pleasure or surprise, the cut on his lip trickling blood over his red, bruised lips and down his chin. He looks as feral as I feel.
But the expression in his eyes is like a bucket of cold water being poured over me, and I pull back like I've been burned.
What have we done?
What have I done?
I take several steps back, watching Silas slump against the wall. His eyes are wide, but he doesn't look scared or angry like he should. He looks like he's in pain.
But I am. I'm so angry. And scared. I'm sick with it.
Silas lifts his hands up as if to placate me, as if he could stop me from losing my shit entirely.
"Shit," I whisper, stumbling back a step, afraid that I’ll break if he touches me. My chest is heaving. I look down at the front of my pants, the grey fabric of my suit pants dark where a wet spot is forming. Proof of my stupidity, of my weakness. Of the wrongness inside me. "No, no, no. Not again."
He tries to reach out to me, but I flinch away. "Gideon, it's okay–"
"How can you say that? There's nothing okay with this!" My voice is getting louder by the second, sounding shrill and shaky.
"Hey," he says soothingly. "It's going to be alright. It's not what you think?—"
My instinct is to shut him up with a blow across his fucking mouth. My fist flies before I give it permission to. I try to redirect it, but it’s too late. Most of the impact is between my knuckles and the wall, but his jaw catches the side of my hand.
He stumbles back, hand flyingto his face.
I don't wait to see what happens next. I pick up my bag and bolt from the room.
I can't be here. Can't see the look on his face. Can't face what I've done.
How could I be so selfish?
How could I do this to my sister? What would this do to her if she knew?
Why am I so weak?
CHAPTER 15
SILAS
Gideon and I were both benched for the next home game due to our respective injuries. Even though we weren't forced into close proximity, the silence between us filled every inch of the space we did share. By the time Thursday came, I was filled with so much restless energy that I practically begged to be cleared to play. Thank goodness the trainer agreed that my shoulder was fine. We were both let back on the ice, and we managed to pull off a win in overtime. Every shift on the ice was sharp, focused, and effective despite the brain fog I've been experiencing since Gideon pushed me up against that wall. Thank goodness my body seemed to know what to do, because muscle memory took over whenever my thoughts strayed to Gideon's mouth, strong arms, or the way he gasped when he rutted us both to completion. It blew my mind, right up until he backed away. I was so out of it, I almost told him my secret. It's probably a good thing he cut me off. Although I could have done without taking a fist to my jaw.
We haven’t talked about what happened. We haven't talked at all.
