“A little,” I admit, placing gauze over the wound. He raises his arms, and I secure it with a bandage. “I still think you need stitches.”
“I’ll be fine,” he says, as if the deep gash is a mere paper cut. “I don’t know what we’d do without you, Ella.” He reaches for my hand, taking it in his. “Thank you.”
Painfully slowly, he lifts my palm to his lips. His gaze flickers to mine before he kisses me, right over the imaginary circles forever etched into my skin, and I feel iteverywhere. In my lungs, working overtime to produce each breathless exhale, in my heart, hammering against my rib cage, and in every nerve ending firing beneath my skin. I can’t believe it.He’s touching me.The thought reverberates through my mind. This can’t be real. I’m terrified if I close my eyes for even one second, I’ll find myself back in my bed, having just woken from the most wonderful dream. And yet his hand is still wrapped around mine. Warm and solid andreal.
He turns my hand to the side, staring at my wrist with a slight frown. “That scar. When did you get it?”
I withdraw my hand, tracing the pale mark with my thumb. “I broke a bone in my wrist almost four months ago and I had to have surgery. It’s been a bit of an ordeal. Sometimes it aches so badly I can’t draw. Why?”
“I’ve never noticed it before.”
“Well, maybe you don’t pay attention?” I tease.
Parker’s expression darkens, and when he speaks, his voice is coarse. “When it comes to you, I can’t focus on anything else. Especially when you keep showing up here looking like that.”
His gaze dips to my black sweater and pleated skirt—more of Anna’s designer clothes—and returns to my face with hunger looming behind his amber irises. He brings his hand to my flushed cheek and I lean into his touch. My eyes flutter closed, and I breathe him in—warm cedar mixed with something fresh, like cut grass—and I realize this is the first time I’ve been able to smell him.
When I open my eyes, he’s staring at me, lips parted, bodyso still he could be frozen in time. Then, ever so slowly, his thumb sweeps down, grazing my bottom lip until he plucks it like a string.
I focus on that freckle, perfectly positioned above his lip. My personal homing device. Would he taste as sweet as in my dreams? Would his intimate caress ignite the same fire within my bones?
His gaze dances across my lips and he draws in a deep breath. He’s looking at me as if—
Wait. Is he going to kiss me?
Whispering my name in an exhale, he tips his head forward to rest his forehead against mine. “You’re so young,” he says in a pained voice, and my heart plummets—I’ve been here before.
I search his face. “Does it bother you… the age gap between us?”
I brace myself for the letdown.
The excuses.
The lies.
And yet, when Parker’s gaze locks with mine, there’s a hint of sadness, but it’s wrapped in fire and want.
“Age and time could never change the way I feel about you,” he says softly, then he closes the gap between us and brushes his lips against mine.
There’s a gentle restraint to his kiss, softer than a light breeze tickling my skin. But it’s over before I can savor it. Parker breaks the kiss and I nearly slip off my chair. Off the face of the earth. And before I fall, before Rose returns and this moment’s stolen from us, I plan to make the most of every second I have with him.
I grasp his face and kiss him again, slipping my tongueinto his mouth, just as I have every night in my dreams. He responds in kind, as if we’ve done this a thousand times before. In an instant, time shifts from slow motion to fast forward, and the invisible cord holding us back is severed.
Arms wrapping around my waist, he pulls me onto his lap. As my weight shifts, he groans, his body tensing. I lift myself, but he growls in disapproval, holding my body to his.
His large hands move to my face, through my hair and down my back, as if he wants to trace my whole body at once. He grabs the bottom of my sweater and pulls it over my head, resuming his exploration of the exposed skin not covered by my tank top. His touch leaves a path of fire in its wake like a brand igniting me, fueling my racing heart and the rocking of my hips against his.
His unyielding body flush against mine, every powerful thump of his heart mirrors my own, like two drums building to a crescendo. He explores my neck with tongue and teeth, and I close my eyes, savoring the sensation of his lips on my skin and the warmth of his body transferring to mine. He moves to the upper swell of my breast and shivers dance down my spine, a throaty moan escaping my lips. The sound startles him, and he pulls his lips from my skin to capture my gaze with his, as if to check I’m still here. That this is real.
The desire burning in his eyes has turned them the color of molten honey and they bore into mine as we hold one another, our breathing quick and uneven.
“I’ve been waiting for over six months to hold you again,” he whispers against my lips.
So, wearetogether in the future?
I thread my fingers through his hair and tug his face back toward me, needing his mouth on mine. When our lipstouch, he’s smiling at my unspoken command, no doubt two gorgeous dimples set in his cheeks.
Then he devours my mouth like he’s an addict and I’m his next hit. There’s no coming back from a kiss like this. I’ll die with the memory of his taste on my lips. His hand brushes my knee, gliding up the bare flesh of my thigh and disappearing underneath my skirt, his thumbs recommencing their torturous circles. My breath hitches. His finger toys with the elastic of my underwear—
