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RIDGE
Nothing is morepainful than losing your voice when you have so much to say. If I could speak right now, I’d be by her side, where she’s asleep, kissing her forehead and whispering,You are worth the mess I’ve made.
I’m in over my head with this girl, but it doesn’t even matter. Nights like this, alone with her, make me realizenothingelse matters.
I lean forward, pressing my elbows to my knees, my eyes never leaving her beautiful face. I could close my eyes and still see it in my head. Her face—her body—it’s all tattooed to memory.
She’s on her side, facing me. As if she fell asleep in that position, just so I could watch her. Her mouth parts slightly, shoulders rising a smidge with each breath she takes.
I drop my elbows and stand up while keeping my calves anchored to the chair. If I get too close, I might lose control—and control is not something that comes easily to me.
My chest heaves before tightening. Palms sweating, I stretch my fingers and step forward before stepping right back.
Don’t do it. Don’t go near her.
How can I not, though? She’s so close. So attainable.
And she’s not waking up now that she took her sleeping medication.
Creeping slowly to her bedside, I keep my arms at my sides.
Just one touch. One touch, then I’ll go back to the chair.
With a trembling hand, I stroke her cheek gently. Being this close is painful. My body is packed with emotions that are ready to slice me open and spill out all over her angelic body.
I’ve always felt deeply, but I’ve never feltthisdeeply. It’s almost unbearable. The agony is too much to handle.
I should leave.
I can’t leave.
Get the fuck out of here, Ridge.
Don’t go.
I jump back as thoughts consume my head, screaming to be heard. I’m constantly battling different voices telling me to do different things when what I really want is to be near her. Always. Forever.
Minutes pass. Lost staring at the masterpiece in front of my eyes. I sigh heavily as I rejoin her. And when I’m there, I shut off the voices and follow my heart. Slowly, I peel the blanket down, exposing the milky skin of her shoulders. Once they’re free, I keep going until the blanket rests in a mound at her feet.
It’s not like I’m trespassing. She knows I’m here and willingly went to sleep in my presence. She trusts me.
She shouldn’t.
My fingers move at a featherlike pace up her leg, and she twitches at my touch, arousing something inside me as I see her unconsciously react to me. When her leg lifts, knee bent at her side, my eyes crawl between her legs, resting on her white cotton panties.
Self-restraint eludes me. My mind is unstable. Rationality swims in the murkiest of waters and I cannot stop myself. I just can’t.
Before I can even consider an alternative, I unzip my jeans and push them down along with my boxers.
I won’t touch her while she’s sleeping, at least, not yet. But fuck if I won’t touch myself with dreams of her in my head.
Fisting my swollen cock, I stroke it while leaning closer and closer to my sleeping beauty.
“This could be your hand, Angel.” I whisper my words into her hair as I draw in a deep breath of her intoxicating scent. It’s a smell I can never get enough of and one I stroke myself to every night. Last night, it was her underwear that I took out of her bathroom trash last week. She was just coming off her period and there was a bloodstain on them. I buried my face in those panties and came within a minute.
Right now, I might not even last a full sixty seconds.
My knees press to the bed and I climb up, hovering over her face. I pump faster and faster while watching her mouth, wishing I could slip my cock between her soft, pink lips.
