AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He looks at me again. “As nice as she could be, I suppose.”
His new mother may have been nice, but the shadows swimming in his eyes tell me it wasn’t enough. The damage was done.
It’s the being abandoned part that fucks you up. That the person who’s supposed to love you unconditionally doesn’t give a shit about what happens to you.
Thankfully, my father is a good man. He did his best to make up for her absence. To love me twice as much, maybe more.
But did Noah’s? Did his father love him twice as much too?
“And your father?” I ask, wanting to know. Needing to know that someone did love him the way a child deserves to be loved.
“Like I said, he was a prick. He died a few months ago.”
“Oh, Noah.” I slide my hand up over his shoulder and cup his cheek. He turns into it, pressing his lips to my palm.
Without pulling from my touch, he lifts his gaze to mine. “What do you see in my eyes, Emily? If they’re windows into my soul, what do you see?”
I stare into them, peering deeper than I have before because he’s letting me. I’m not sure why, but he is.
“Shadows,” I whisper. “There are shadows.”
“Is that bad?”
“Everyone has darkness in their lives.”
“Not you,” he says.
I smile. “What do you see in mine?”
“Light.”
My smile fades as I sense something in him shift. His shadows swirl and solidify into complete darkness. Intense. Terrifying. Beautiful.
“The question is, does light penetrate shadows, or do the shadows drown out the light?” he asks, his voice low. His lips part and he nips at the heel of my palm.
“I don’t know,” I reply on an intake of breath. “Noa—”
Before I finish speaking, I’m being pressed against the table, the wood digging into my ass.
He leans into me, towering over me, securing me in position with his hard body against me, his hands braced on the table, one leg on each side of mine.
I stare up at him and watch with suspended anticipation as the lust and hunger in his gaze surge to the surface.
“Noah,” I whisper only his name, but there’s so much more meaning loaded into that single word.
Kiss me. Take me. Let me drown in you.
As if he can read me like an open book, he bends his head until the heat of his breath brushes against my lips. But he doesn’t kiss me.
He moves his mouth over my cheek, exhaling slightly, warming my skin as he goes. When he reaches the crook of my neck, he inhales deeply, breathing me in.
I remain motionless, hardly able to take in oxygen, wondering if he’s going to kiss me there. Almost as if in desperate expectation, my body sends blood rushing to every part that wants to be kissed by him—the spot just beneath my lips, my nipples, between my legs.
I’m near to combusting. All it would take is his touch on my neck to create that spark that will set me on fire.
It never comes.
Instead, he brings his mouth close to my ear and growls, “Tell me to leave.”
