Page 34 of Replacement

I don’t know why I tell him this. The final bitter truth of my heart. Why it needs to be said. Why it feels safe for him to hear it.

But the words come out, and there’s no way I can stop them.

He runs his hand down my back in what’s almost a caress. He doesn’t say anything at all.

Finally I don’t have a choice about pulling out of the hug. I straighten up and wipe the last of the tears from my face, darting him a self-conscious look.

His expression is quiet and thoughtful, and I’m not quite sure what it means. “How long has it been since you’ve cried?”

I look down. “I’m not sure.” Since I don’t know when Amber last cried, I can’t make a definitive statement, but he said earlier he’s never known her to cry, so she’s clearly not any more of a crier than me. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry. You don’t always have to hide.”

I suck in a quick breath and glance up, but he reveals nothing but that same watchful quietness. He doesn’t appear suspicious or like he’s playing games with me. He’s talking about Amber. He won’t know he managed to capture Jade perfectly in so few words.

I mumble something incoherent and look back out toward the city.

William stands beside me, also gazing at the cityscape, for a really long time. We don’t say anything.

After a while, the silence starts to make me uncomfortable. Since I’m more controlled now and need a way to move past the emotional interlude, I say, “I thought you might work late this evening.”

William glances over at me, looking faintly surprised. But his mouth is twitching in the way I’ve learned to recognize is amusement. “It’s late enough,” he murmurs, a different sort of thickness entering his voice.

My breath hitches as I stare up at him. My body starts to hum in response to the texture in his voice and the soft heat that has sparked in his eyes. I can’t look away from him, and a heady tension tightens in my chest and between my legs.

He somehow gets closer, although neither of us appears to have moved. He raises a hand to cup my face again, and this time his thumb gently caresses my cheek where the track of a tear is. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” His eyes are devouring me. “Beautiful and… and alive somehow.”

I gasp and sway toward him instinctively, completely lost in the sensations and the feel of his intimate regard. Summoning what I can of my control, I say breathlessly, “William, I…” I trail off, completely unable to think of a way to end this encounter the way I know I should.

My heart is racing, and my body has flushed hot. William is leaning down toward me, and I want him to.

Iwanthim.

When his lips close on mine, a rush of deep pleasure ripples through me. My arms twine around his neck, and I press my body against his. He unclips my hair and then tangles his fingers in the loose waves as they fall down over my back. His mouth moves against mine eagerly, urgently. Then his tongue starts to tease.

Overwhelmed by feelings and sensation, I open to the advance of his tongue, moaning low in my throat as the pleasure deepens even further. My body pulses with growing desire, and I claw shamelessly at his shirt.

I want to feel him. I want to feel all of him.

He pushes me back against the railing, so I’m trapped between it and his hard body. One of his hands slips down to my bottom and presses my pelvis firmly against his. He’s already hard, the bulge in his trousers pressing deliciously against my middle. I tear my mouth away from his and gasp desperately for air, my arousal aching so deeply I can’t help but grind myself against his hip.

My head falls back, and I moan with pleasure as William lowers his mouth to suck on the pulse at my throat.

Suddenly, through the fog of need and desire, I remember that William thinks I’m Amber. He’s making out with Amber, not me.

He wants Amber, not me.

“William, wait.” I stiffen as I’m hit by the painful realization. “Stop.”

He groans in frustration, but his body grows still. With effort, he lifts his head from my neck. “Why?” His cheeks are flushed, and he’s holding his body as stiffly as I am.

I try to think, try to come up with a convincing excuse. There’s no reason William shouldn’t be able to make love to his fiancée—except I’m not really his fiancée.

“I thought you might really want this. Me.” His voice is still hoarse with desire. But there’s something else there too. Something almost hurt.

I can’t allow it. Not when I’m the cause of it. “I do. I do want this. But I’m… I’ve been… I’m still doing a lot of thinking.” I have to ease my body away from his since I’m fighting the urge to rub myself against him. “I’m trying to do better, but I don’t think I’m quite there yet. I was hoping… if it’s all right with you… I was hoping I could have a little more time to work through things before we… before we… since sex complicates things even more.”

William’s brown eyes bore into me, like he’s seeing into my soul. I don’t think my excuse is a great one, but it’s somewhat plausible. He might buy it.

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