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As much as I want to protest, I don’t. The last place I want to end up is back in the hospital. As I sit up and cast my eyes over the still-calm sea, I swallow around the lump in my throat, strangely upset about leaving this little bubble we’ve created.
Walking away means letting real life once more. With everything going on, can I be blamed for wanting to stay here where it feels safe, away from the prying eyes of those waiting for me to fall apart?
I stand when Valen does and grab the blanket, folding it as Valen collects the bottle and empty glasses. I follow him inside, the calm I felt gone the second he closes the door behind us.
He places the wine bottle and glasses on the kitchen counter before turning to look at me. “Why don’t you head into the living room while I get us fresh drinks?”
I don’t want to admit that the wine I’ve already consumed has gone to my head, so I nod and brush past him in the direction he points. As I walk away, I’m acutely aware of his eyes on me and the burning trail they blaze across my skin, the heat so intense it almost steals my breath.
Once I’m out of sight, I hurry to the windows, needing to see the ocean once more to center myself. I press my hand against the cool glass, my eyes on the dark water outside. I send up a silent prayer to protect me, if not from Valen, then from myself. Because when I’m around him, all common sense goes out the window.
Chapter Eight
Rue
Valen joins me a few minutes later, bringing with him fresh glasses of wine. I take the glass he offers me and thank him for it.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
I take a large gulp and almost choke at his words. Feeling my face flame, I turn back to the window, gasping when I feel his large hands on my arms as he steps up behind me. When his front presses against my back, I whimper at the feel of his erection. He’s not even trying to hide his arousal.
“Valen,” I warn him, but it comes out more of a plea.
This is not a good idea. This is so far from good it’s not even funny. Yet, instead of pulling away, I allow my head to fall back. And my eyes slip closed.
Valen reaches up and slides my hair off my shoulder, exposing my neck. When his lips skim over the sensitive skin there, I let out a soft moan. One of his hands slides around my waist, pulling me back against him.
My eyes open when his other hand slides up my stomach to where the front of my dress dips. With a simple flick of his fingers, he opens the top button. When I don’t fight him, he opens a second and then a third, exposing my bra.
His lips on my neck become teeth, nipping and biting a path down to my shoulder. I shiver as he slips his hand inside my dress and cups my breast over my bra, his thumb gliding over my nipple.
“You might not remember, but your body does. Look at how you react to me,” he murmurs in my ear, his melodic voice making goosebumps break out all over my skin.
I wait for him to tug my bra down, but he never does, happy to tease me in the most delicious way. I can feel how much he wants me—the evidence is grinding against me—but for some reason, he’s holding back.
I don’t know if that makes me happy or disappointed.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you.”
His words are like a cold shower, snapping me out of my lust-induced haze. He must feel me tense because he sighs and pulls away, taking my glass from me before spinning me around to look at him.
“Talk to me,” he orders as he walks over to place my glass on the coffee table.
As he stalks back toward me, I let the truth slip free. “I don’t know if I missed you or if I was happy for the break. You seem…intense.” I bite my lip as his eyes flash with amusement.
“You like my intensity. You like the way you can give yourself over to me. Because you know, no matter what, I’ll catch you every time.”
His words bring a lump to my throat. I lean forward and face-plant against his chest. He freezes for a second, making me think I’ve surprised him. But just when I think about pulling back, his hands slide up my spine, and he holds me to him.
I breathe him in, letting the smell of his expensive cologne soothe me. I realize when my body relaxes that the scent is familiar to me.
“How about we go to bed?”
I look up at him.
“You don’t look like the early-to-bed type.”
He smirks. “Oh? And what type do I look like?”
