Page 73 of Relapse

I held her closer. “Delane. Talk to me.”

Her body curled into mine tighter and she looked up at me. We were so close. Her eyes bore into my soul, green irises amidst a chaotic storm at sea. I stroked her cheeks, feeling the wetness of her tears.

Then suddenly, she leaned up, and I didn’t know what to do when she kissed me. Her mouth was damp with her tears, and her motion was frantic against me. Instinct took over, and I kissed her back, opening gently to take in more of her. Memories of the night outside the hospital rushed back into my head, and I couldn’t help myself from continuing.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispered against my lips, pulling back softly.

I must have looked like an idiot because for a moment, I couldn’t even speak. I stared, immobile, absorbing every inch of her, watching the rise and fall of her chest beneath her dress, the way her eyes fluttered up and back down to my lips.

DELANE

The kiss with Noah was like a downpour, a drowning wave of sensation that washed away everything else. All of the pity, all of the images of my parents being lowered into the ground, the headstone, the smell of the funeral home, the beeping in the hospital—all those fucking sounds and visuals and feelings… gone. Washed away.

It was exactly what I wanted. But it wasn’t enough. Breaking the kiss, I gasped for air, my body trembling. Before he could speak, before he could ask any more questions, I acted.

With a surge of strength I didn’t know I possessed, I pushed him backward. He stumbled, his legs hitting the edge of the lounge chair, and he fell into a sitting position. He gaped up at me, his expression a mixture of shock and raw desire.

I didn’t hesitate. I followed him down, straddling his lap in one fluid motion. The fabric of my dress bunched up around my thighs, and I could feel the rough denim of his jeans against my near bare skin.

I was wet for him. Soaking.

And I didn’t even care about what he may think of me—if he thought less of me, I mean. The bulge in his pants told me otherwise. His arousal was my green light to continue. So I did.

I didn’t want to be a virgin anymore.

I didn’t want to “save” myself for a future that might not be real.

I didn’t want to wait to start my life. Life wasn’t waiting for me.

Life was a dark place. And I was going to block it out.

Noah was going to be how.

NOAH

Delane was in my fucking lap, tongue in my mouth, and I was about ready to rip her clothes off.

I forced myself to pause, even though I was dying to keep kissing her. She had to know about the wreckage, the self-destruction, and every inevitable mistake that would follow if we kept going. The caution label slipped out before I could stop it, like it was my responsibility to give everyone a clear warning about exactly what they were getting into before getting too close to me.

“I’m no good for you, Delane.” I said with a scoff. “I’m no good for anyone.”

A true statement through and through.

“I don’t believe that,” she said, bringing her mouth down hard against my own once again.

I nearly moaned against her lips, the ferocity of her comment taking me off guard. Slowly, I could feel her leaning closer to me. Her thighs squeezed around my legs and my hands flexed upwards, grabbing them.

She sighed against my lips and rotated her body forward. That small shift sent a jolt of pleasure right through me, a clear signal of her need. Her want for me.

I liked knowing that. And my body wasn’t going to hide it either.

But when I met her eyes again, my certainty slipped.

She wasn’t looking at me the way people usually did. Her tear stricken eyes were filled with something beyond desire, something closer to wonder. It was the same feeling and look she gave me the night I saved her from Silas in the alley.

She was confirming something with the way she watched me. There was a part of me that I couldn’t see but she swore was there. A piece of good. A spark of something that might amount to anything in this world.

Not a fuck up. Not a tool.