Page 37 of The Forbidden
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He looks completely unaffected. Cool. Composed. Nothing or no one affects the great Evan Maxwell. It’s maddening. For once, I’d like to see him break.
And then, as if things couldn’t get any worse, the elevator jerks to a stop, the lights flickering. My breath catches. If what I think is happening, is happening, Evan is about to see something I never wanted him to witness.
“Evan?” I say, my voice tight. “Someone’s just getting on at the twelfth floor, right? That’s why the elevator stopped?” I can hear my own panic, through the buzzing in my ears.
Evan glances at me. He frowns, as his gaze roams my face.
“Not exactly,” he says quietly. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head, panic tightening my throat. “No. No, this can’t be happening. Get us out of here, Evan.” My voice is bordering on hysterical. I back into the polished metal wall, nausea swimming in my stomach, limbs tingling, heart pounding. I’m losing my composure in front of the one personI never wanted to see me like this. Pathetic. Anxious. Weak. Fearful.
My body fills with dread. I crouch down, hands covering my face as I rock backward and forward, trying to calm my frayed nerves. The walls are caving in. The past squeezing all the air from lungs. I’m going to–
“Anais,” Evan calls, but he sounds far away. I try to grab hold of his voice like a lifeline, but in my panic, it’s just out of my grasp. He pries my hands away, and I blink. He’s kneeling in front of me, his expression full of concern. “Anais, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“I-I-I,” I stammer, unable to get the words out as my anxiety builds. “I need to get out of here. Evan, please get me out of here.” I cry, the terror building. My vision blurs and I’m falling into a void. Someone cups my face, and I jolt at the contact. My panic spirals as I claw at hands. “Don’t touch me,” I whimper, but the grip only tightens.
“It’s me, Anais. Evan.” Someone shouts, startling me.
I blink, tethering myself to the familiar voice.
“It’s you,” I whisper. “Evan.”
One side of his mouth tugs up. “Yeah. It’s me.” Releasing one side of my face, he brushes his thumb over the pulse point in my neck. “That’s it. Breathe.” He gently rubs the spot. I inhale, then slowly exhale, trying to focus on his handsome face. “Good girl,” he murmurs and I feel the anxiety slowly drift away.
Then I freeze.
Because Evan is touching me.
He never touches me. Not ever. And I know he is only trying to calm me, but I like it far more than I should. My heart rate spikes again, but this time for a totally different reason.
“Relax,” he rasps, stroking that damn pulse point and misreading the reason for my erratic heartbeat. Because it’s no longer being trapped in a confined space, it’s him. And in this moment, I don’t care, because he does something that shocks me to my core. Something I feel like I’ve waited a lifetime for.
His eyes drop to my lips, and before I can process what’s happening, he presses his mouth to mine. It’s not passionate by any means, but it’s grounding. It’s real. My mind goes blank, I forget. The fear. The panic. Everything except him and the feel of his kiss. My tongue darts out, running along the seam of his lips, and I prod gently, hoping he’ll allow me access. He doesn’t disappoint. Slowly, his lips part, allowing me to explore, and letting me take what I need.
Somehow, I end up clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping me afloat. I forget we are stuck in an elevator, forget everything but the man in front of me, stealing my breath. Because kissing Evan Maxwell is everything I imagined and more.
His tongue tangles with mine, drawing it out, before he sucks on it. The groan that emanates from his chest sends heat shooting straight between my thighs. That is until he slowly pulls away and starts untangling me from his body. I don’t know how I ended up wrapped around him like an octopus, but I know I want to stay this way forever.
Realistic. No.
Delusional. Definitely.
Evan watches me, a mix of lust and confusion in his icy blues. He licks his swollen lips. I stare at him, my gaze never leaving his face, not wanting to miss any emotion he might be feeling. My breathing is heavy, but for a totally different reason now.
Then he cups my cheeks again, his attention rapt on me.
“Breathe, Anais. In and out,” he says, softer than I thought he was capable of. I do so slowly, mimicking him. “Good girl,” he murmurs softly, and now that I’m cognizant, a thrill runs through my body. “That’s it, you’ve got it. You’re okay. I’m here.”
The fact Evan is here should set me on edge, and it would if he was being his usual self. But this version of Evan, the one in front of me, is different. It’s exactly who I need.
It takes a couple of minutes, but finally I relax, slumping back against the wall, my ass hitting the marble floor. My cheeks heat in embarrassment. I’m mortified that he’s witnessed my meltdown, but as I look at him, there’s no judgment in his eyes, only concern.
“Thank you,” I whisper, swallowing down the lump in my throat.
He exhales, and I can’t help that my gaze drops to his lips, the same ones that were just on me. My eyes widen as reality hits me right in the chest.
Holy fuck. I kissed Evan Maxwell.
