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I can practically taste it on my tongue—cloying and bitter, like the darkest of chocolates imaginable.
“Zane?” Ellie doesn’t stare up at me with any fear. Then again, there’s no reason for her to fear me. I’ll never hurt her, even if she breaks my damn heart.
I can’t say the same about the rest of the people here.
Ellie’s legs instinctively wrap around my waist, and I place my hands underneath her ass to hold her steady as I move toward the stairs leading out of the pool. More than a few eyes follow us, but I ignore them all.
The world falls away around me. All that exists is Ellie.
Her wavy brown hair, now plastered to her cheeks and forehead.
Her blue, almost gray, eyes, even more striking now that they’re not covered by glasses.
Her Cupid’s bow lips that beg me to lean down and nibble on them.
And her perfect body, accentuated by the drenched cover-up clinging to her curves.
I meet Landon’s eyes over Ellie’s head, and whatever he sees on my face has his jaw clenching. But he nods once, indicating that he’ll hold down the fort, so to speak, while I do what I need to do.
Heaven only knows what that is.
No, not heaven.
Hell.
There’s nothing pure or angelic about my thoughts where they concern Ellie.
I move until we’re in the locker room, the automatic lights flashing on one after the other. Quickly, I place her on her feet, shut and lock the door, and then check underneath each stall, ensuring we’re alone. Only when I’m positive there’s no one hiding in wait do I return to my princesa.
“I wasn’t going to do it,” Ellie breathes, her pink lips parting. The sight has a rampant, searing heat traveling straight to my cock.
“Don’t speak.” I place a finger against her lips the way I’ve been desperate to do since…well… Is it weird if I say since the first moment I saw her when we were just children and I didn’t know what sex was? What love was? I constantly want to be touching her, kissing her, caressing her. My monster and I are in agreement on that.
Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I bend down and press my lips to hers.
It’s not a kiss.
But try telling that to my dick, which has turned rock hard and aching in my swim trunks.
Ellie’s breath hitches, and she begins to tremble where she stands. The only place we touch is where my lips brush against hers, the softest of grazes that have licks of fire dancing along my skin.
“Zane…” When she speaks my name, her lips move, and the pinpricks of fire turn into a raging, unfettered inferno.
“I told you not to speak,” I murmur, my heart battering my rib cage with a frightening velocity. I’m pretty sure a heart isn’t supposed to beat this fast or this hard. I can hear the deafening sound of it in my ears.
Thu-thump.
Thu-thump.
Thump-thump-thump.
Ellie either doesn’t hear or chooses to ignore the threat in my words.
“Why won’t you kiss me again?” A tiny whimper of need escapes her, and I swear that noise migrates through my body and settles in my dick like birds flying south for the summer.
“Because.”
“Because?”
