Page 45 of Delirium 2

“I can’t do shit. I don’t know why not when everything I’ve done in the past couple minutes ain’t did shit but make you smile.” He paused. “I can’t make you smile, Angel? Hm?”

The flirting was out of control, wasn’t it? I was falling harder for Exodus by the second. How in the hell did we even get here? We were talking about me and my damn trauma. How we ended up here was crazy. Me with a racing heart. Goosebumps, and tingles shooting through my nerves like never before.

I looked at him.

Turned my head and caught his eye. His left mine and traveled down my face, landing on my lips. I swallowed and watched as he inched in a little. Did I back away? Hell no. I didn’t move. Couldn’t. Was cemented by nerves. Stuck by… desire. Desire I couldn’t escape. Desire that only built when his buttery, soft lips touched mine.

I exhaled.

He did too. As if we’d both wanted to do that for ages.

Which was insane, considering we’d only really known each other for a couple of weeks. Four. That was how long it’d been since Meech died. I met him then. What an anniversary…. Right?

His hand found the back of my neck.

He pulled me in closer.

I climbed on his lap and threw my arms around his neck, without skipping a beat. Exodus’s big hands traveled from the nape of my neck to my back where he wrapped them around me. He held me. Tight. Soft lips pressed tightly against mine, while our tongues did this… aggressive dance. One filled with that desire I spoke of earlier. No, I was wrong. This wasn’t the desire from earlier—this was something deeper. This was something hungrier. We were messy. Kissing like teenagers, gyrating our hips on each other, dry humping like we hadn’t had sex for years.

No.

We weren’t aggressive.

I was aggressive.

I was feverish.

Exodus was soft.

He was slow.

He was delicate.

He was gentle.

Until he matched my fire.

A fire I couldn’t contain. I wanted Exodus Christ. I wanted him bad. And as shy and bashful as I was a minute ago, that shit didn’t matter. It faded. The minute his lips touched mine, it went away. Flames ignited and I deemed him irresistible. On every fucking level.

He was perfect damn near.

The taste of his tongue.

The feel of his hands on my skin, creeping up the back of my shirt while he held me.

I quivered.

Or did I shiver?

Whichever… I moved. I quaked. My body responded to him in ways it’d never responded to anyone ever before. And I liked it. I liked it so got damn much that I decided right then and there, I wanted that—whatever it was that he did to me—all of the time. I decided then that I didn’t want him to give that to anyone else.

Immediately… I was possessive and the man… he wasn’t mine.

He didn’t belong to me. No one belonged to anyone. Because life was unfair. Because life was fickle. In that moment, I realized what danger I was in and pulled away from the kiss, a panting, teary eyed mess.

I couldn’t fall for Exodus. Not only because people left but because what I felt when his lips touched mine was dangerous. Falling for him wouldn’t just be detrimental to my mental health but dangerous too. I was serious about the possessiveness. Serious about not wanting him to give that to anyone else. So serious about wanting that all of the time. Wanting this. The vibes. The chemistry. The irresistible, undeniable energy. Exodus was a drug. Something I’d want all of the time. Something I’d want to hold on to. And you couldn’t… you couldn’t hold on to people because… people… people left.

He brushed his thumb under my eye, catching a tear I didn’t realize I’d cried. “What happened? I do too much?”