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Dean’s eyes bore into mine as something electric and all-consuming passes through us. I wonder if he can feel it, too.
When his breath quivers and his lips part, I get my answer.
When his fingers touch the bare skin between my shirt and my pants, I suck in a delicate gasp.
“Go on,” he breathes.
He tugs me ever so gently toward him, so we’re practically embracing. To anyone around us, we appear to be like the couple in the painting, two lovers gazing longingly into each other’s eyes.
My body is on fire, and the turmoil inside me is agonizing. It’s as if my mind and my body want two different things, and there is no way to reconcile them.
I want him. In a physical, torturous, heart-wrenching way, I want him. Dean is everything I crave out of my life. Independent and headstrong. With one quick motion, he could cut the ties keeping me chained to this life.
But I love my husband, and I love my family.
I don’t understand why I so desperately feel this need to be free from it.
Standing in this gallery, inmysafe space, I don’t belong to anyone here. I serve no one. I worshipno one.
“Please, Briar,” he whispers, his breath grazing my lips. “Let’s get out of here.”
Those words feel like a bomb that detonates and takes out everything. It razes my entire life, and at this moment, I find it so alluring that I let it.
“Okay,” I mumble in return.
He slips his hand in mine and tugs me toward the door. I barely see the art we pass as we rush through the museum. Thoughts swirl through my mind as we go, but I brush them away as if we’re trying to outrun them.
Outrun the consequences. Outrun the guilt. Outrun the multitude of reasons I should not want this.
I’m not thinking. Only acting, and it feels good. After years and years of making the smart choice, the Christian choice, the moral choice, I forgot how good it feels just to make the carnal, selfish choice.
Dean and I are out on the street, hands linked and practically running to the car. He’s wearing an expression on his face of victory and elation. His eyes sparkle as he slips his tongue out and wets his bottom lip. When his eyes rake over my body from top to bottom, I feel alive for the first time since college.
As we step into the elevator of the parking garage and the doors close us in, I feel my temperature rise. He turns toward me with hunger in his eyes as he corners me against the wall.
“Look at me,” he commands, and I lift my gaze to his face. “Hands behind your back,” he says, and the way he tells me exactly what to do sends chills down my spine.
Like the condensation on a glass of sweet iced tea left out in the sun, I melt under his scorching gaze. When his lips move toward me, my heart races and my head turns slightly. His kiss lands against the rapid pulse of my neck, and I forget how to breathe.
The arousal that courses through me is fervent and intoxicating. His lips are harsh against my skin, and my eyes fly wide open as his hands grip my waist with brutal need.
I’m lost in a torrent of desire.
His deep, sexy voice whispers in my ear, “You might be married to him, but you belong to me.”
Blood rushes to my core, pulsing with need. With my hands still pressed obediently between my body and the wall of this elevator, I’m powerless. I’m his.
As his lips finally find mine, I hold my breath and jump headfirst into this feeling. His mouth captures mine, and suddenly, we’re alone on a planet of our own. We are the only two people who exist. He licks into my mouth, caressing my tongue and making it so I couldn’t breathe if I wanted to.
Everything about this kiss is exquisite, like the stroke of paint on a canvas blending together to form a masterpiece.
But when I feel him grind the stiff length in his pants against me, the panic sets in. I feel his cock, and suddenly I’m flooded with dirty, terrible thoughts of what I’d like to do with it. I want to touch it, taste it, worship it, take it.
It’s so,sowrong.
Like being doused in cold water, I gasp. Just then, the elevator chimes, and the doors open.
I lift my hands from behind my back and shove Dean to the side so I can rush out of the elevator. When I reach the open air at the top of the parking garage, I suck in a breath as if I’ve been underwater this entire time.
