Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 137119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
And just as I thought the aftershocks were subsiding, his entire body tightened, his hand left my mouth and he was kissing me again, making a noise at the back of his throat as he found his release inside me.
And that sent me over the edge again, so I tightened around him, milking his release from him.
Stillness eventually took over the chaos that had seemed so permanent. Heath’s forehead was resting on mine.
We were both breathing heavily.
He was still inside me.
Slowly, without a word, he lifted me from him and placed me on my feet.
Evidence of his release began to trickle down my leg. He moved to snatch a rogue cloth and gently cleaned me with a tenderness that had been absent the entire time he’d been fucking me.
And this was fucking.
Pure and simple.
No, not at all pure and the farthest from simple anyone could ever get.
But this moment, afterward, the one that should’ve been filled with chaos as the reality of what had just happened settled in—me fucking the man I was trying to keep away from in a supply closet hours after my sister almost died—it was quiet. Peaceful.
Simple.
Heath pulled my dress down and then buckled his belt.
I stayed silent.
He lifted his hands to frame my face again, brushing my bottom lip with his thumb.
I opened my mouth to say something, something stupid and reckless and dangerous.
But then the door opened, harsh light flooded in and an orderly gaped between us and then grinned wickedly at Heath.
It was the harsh and sterile light and the leer from the young orderly that chased away the words that I was about to say. I took the slackening of Heath’s hands as an opportunity and pushed past the orderly to run out the door.
Away from Heath.
He didn’t chase me.
It didn’t work that way between us.
Chapter Five
It didn’t fix us.
Staring death in the face, or more accurately having death stare me in the face with its horrific, sickening and inescapable reality.
I didn’t go back on everything with the brutal reminder of how short life was. It was tempting. Oh so tempting when I spent the next two days at my sister’s side, Heath’s touch chasing away the grip of death.
I wanted him.
With my bones.
With my soul.
But it was my heart that stopped me.
My broken, damaged and cowardly heart.
And it continued to stop me as I watched Lucy marry Keltan from her hospital bed. With Heath staring at me during the whole thing.
I didn’t look at him.
I couldn’t.
And when it was appropriate, I ran from the room. Much like I’d run from that supply closet.
This time Heath chased me.
“Not so fast, Sunshine.”
He had yanked me into an empty exam room before I could escape.
Not that there was any escaping Heath.
“I gave you time,” he said, stalking toward me as I backed farther into the room.
I hit a bed and my retreat was hampered. And also the bed was not a good thing to have in the immediate vicinity considering the look in Heath’s eyes. Considering Heath. The electric connection we shared that had every cell in my body calling out for him.
“I gave you time,” he continued eyes dark, hands grasping my hips. The way he pressed against the thin fabric of my dress told me that he’d leave bruises.
And if there was ever a physical embodiment of the reasons why this wouldn’t work, it was that. He couldn’t touch me without leaving bruises. He couldn’t look at me without leaving scars.
“I know you needed it,” Heath rasped. “Time. Knew it would do more harm than good to chase you after everything that happened. Know you’re a woman that enjoys the loud, but you need the quiet when everything becomes too much.” He cupped my face. “These past few days have been too fucking much,” he murmured.
My eyes watered.
I couldn’t handle it. Him being kind. Gentle.
I couldn’t handle him knowing me so fricking well when I was a stranger to myself.
“What happened between us was wrong,” I whispered.
His eyes flickered with hardness. With anger. “No, what happened between us was the only right thing in a fucking wrong situation,” he growled. “It should’ve happened the second I saw you again. The second for whatever reason, I was given another chance. Should’ve ripped you out of that hipster fucker’s arms. But I was trying to do it right. Trying to give you time. Waiting for you to come to me.” His gaze tore through me. “Why didn’t you come to me, Polly?”
I could’ve told him the truth. That I spent hours fighting with myself. Driving through the city, driving past his old apartment, visiting ghosts and wondering if there was such a thing as the resurrection of broken hearts.
I could’ve told him that I wanted to come to him with every fiber of my being, but I couldn’t because no matter how adventurous I seemed outwardly, my heart didn’t need adventure. Couldn’t survive it. It needed peace. And I knew he couldn’t give me that.