Page 2 of Mr. Edwards
She’s so goddamn pretty.
I scan over her face, her flawless skin, her bright hazel eyes with specks of green and gold mixed throughout them, her petite, perfectly sculptured nose with the smattering of freckles that I’ve missed… her plump, full red lips that I’m aching to kiss. After all this time, she is still able to steal all the air from my lungs.
“I miss you,” I state, not meaning to confess that but unable to stop the words that effortlessly pour from my mouth. “I miss you so fucking much, Carlee.” I used tocall her sunshine because she shone so bright… she was the light in my life. My world was plunged into darkness when she left.
Tears rise in her eyes, yet she doesn’t look away.
The sadness I see within them is palpable; it tugs at my wounded heart.
Does she miss me too?
I’ve tried to let her go and move on with my life. Fuck, have I tried, but for some reason, I can’t. I still love this woman with everything I have, even after what she put me through.
Does she feel the same? If I’m honest, the past few years have had me questioning if she ever truly loved me at all.
We stay in this position for the remainder of the song—me holding her as she stares up at me. Neither of us moves despite the fact we should be dancing. I don’t care how ridiculous we look. All I care about is being here with her.
It reminds me of the first night we met when I briefly held her for the first time. It was on the dance floor in the middle of the club. Just like then we were so lost in each other that dancing was the last thing on our minds.
I’d give anything to go back to that night. It was one of the best of my life.
The song ends, and my stomach sinks. Our time is over too quickly, but I don’t want to let her go. I want to stay locked in the moment, with her, like this, until the end of time.
Carlee makes the first move, looking away and breaking our connection. When she removes my arms from around her waist and steps back, turning to flee the dance floor,flee me, I’m hot on her heels.
I follow her across the backyard and into Ashton’sparents’ house. The sound of her shoes clicking against the marble floor echoes off the walls as she runs down the long corridor.
When she reaches the bathroom, she slips inside. I hear her strangled sob as she goes to close the door, but I stick my foot into the gap just in time.
“What the hell,” she says as I force my way inside. Her fingers wipe furiously under her eyes trying to hide her tears, but it’s no use, I’ve already seen them. Did she honestly think I’d let her run again? “Get out!”
“Not happening,” I reply, closing the door and locking it behind me.
I turn to face her, and Carlee’s eyes go wide as I stalk in her direction. She slowly backs away until she hits the far wall, leaving her nowhere else to go. I’m on top of her in a flash, caging her in with my arms.
“You know I can kick your ass, right?” she declares, and a smile tugs at my lips as I’m reminded of her ninja skills.
“Nothing you can do will hurt me more than you already have, sweetheart,” I retort, bringing my face within an inch of hers. “I’m not letting you out of here until I have answers.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” she says, raising her chin and straightening her spine.
“Well, I have plenty to say to you.”
“I don’t want to hear it, Grayson.”
“Tough.”
Her eyes bore into mine, and I can feel the warmth of her breath caress my skin. I inhale her air as we remain frozen in a silent standoff.
Reaching up, I cup her jaw. I’m through playing games. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me,” I demand. Unsurprisingly, she remains stoic. “Tellme you don’t love me goddammit because I still love you, Carlee. I’ve never stopped.”
She intakes a sharp breath, and my lips are on hers before it even registers in my mind. I’m half expecting her to knee me in the nuts or flip me over until I’m flat on my back like she’s done on more than one occasion. But she doesn’t. Instead, she fists her hands in the lapels of my tuxedo jacket, pulling me closer and kissing me back.
She kisses me back.
Our mouths, our tongues, and our hands are everywhere. Two and a half years of pent-up frustration all released in a feverous kiss. My cock is so hard for her, it aches.
Moving her hands in between us, she fumbles at the belt buckle on my trousers. My fingers skate up her back, dragging the zipper of her dress down until it’s pooling at her feet.
