Thousands (Dollar 4)

The silence was no longer a visible thing; it was a wall between us—thick and soundproof.

This couldn’t be allowed to continue.

Turning a little to face him, I placed my hand on his.

He jolted, his fingers curling around the edge of the lifeboat as if having me touch him was physically painful. Which could entirely be the case seeing as he fought more complicated desires than me. A simple touch for me might be a lewd promise to him and one he’d sworn never to break.

My heart hurt as I quickly removed my hand. “Sorry.”

He swallowed a gruff groan. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. My mind sifted through too many things he might be apologising for. But I couldn’t see anything that was his direct fault and not a combined effort on both our parts.

“You’ve nothing to be sor—”

“I do.” Jumping off the lifeboat, he spun in front of me. His large hands landed on my knees and without thinking, he pushed my legs apart.

Today was the first day I’d braved a different wardrobe item other than a baggy dress. I no longer suffered claustrophobia and rather liked the idea of mixing up my style choices. Today, I’d opted for an over-size t-shirt in the softest blue coupled with a pair of grey shorts with a pleat ironed down the front.

It’d taken some getting used to having the waistband tight around my belly, but I was ridiculously thankful I’d worn them as Elder spread my legs and stepped into the gap.

He didn’t seem to notice I’d battled my hatred for clothing and won. He didn’t notice his thumbs circled my naked knees or that his touch tightened on my thighs to jerk me closer.

It all happened too fast to micro-analyse, yet that was exactly what my brain did.

It hyper focused on how warm and hard he was between my legs. How his hands drifted over my thighs and wedged themselves under my ass, squeezing me with a thread of violence. I no longer sat on the lifeboat. I sat on him, and God, the thrill that gave me, the knowledge he’d gathered me close without me fighting for it…

It turned me to stone and jelly all at the same time.

My heart wobbled like some ridiculous raspberry dessert while my limbs locked into granite. I wanted to melt. To throw my arms over his shoulders, cup the back of his head, and bring his lips to mine.

Instead, I waited. I studied. I paused until he blinked hard and his nostrils flared, slowly realising how he’d gone from sitting beside me to wedged as tight against me as he could.

“Ah, shit.” He exhaled heavily, his fingers loosening around my ass.

“Wait,” I murmured as he went to pull away.

He stopped, his eyes meeting mine in a silent plea to tell him what to do.

That look of uncertainty when Elder had been everything but uncertain dove into my chest and took a pitchfork to my heart.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Holding my breath, I reached up and cupped his cheek with a shaking palm. “I’ve wanted you to touch me since I saw you at the police station.”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you at the police station.” His eyes burned into mine. “The kiss I gave you wasn’t enough. I doubt any would be enough where you’re concerned.”

His brutal honesty tripped me up.

“You can kiss me again…if you want.”

“I can’t.”

My head swam with gooey desire. “What’s stopping you?”

“You know what’s stopping me.”

“It’s just a kiss.”

He licked his lips as his body gave in, all the while fighting it with words. “We both know it’s not just a kiss.”

My hand crept up his cheek to his temple.

He shuddered as I ran my fingers through his hair, caressing him. I had to sit higher to direct my hand around to the back of his neck. My back arched, pushing my breasts out, my position giving him all the signals he needed.

“Kiss me.” Applying a touch of nail, I pulled his head downward.

The strength of his neck fought me, not budging. His eyes danced over my face as if deciding how to thwart me without hurting my feelings.

Then…it was as if something cracked inside him…as if a tiny box he kept padlocked and protected smashed beneath a sledgehammer.

And then he collapsed forward.

And his mouth crashed against mine.

And his lips were so warm and wet and welcoming.

And he kissed me.

I’d asked for the kiss, but he wholeheartedly donated it.

His lips kissed soft and hard. His tongue flicked over my mouth, not asking, not begging, but demanding entry to taste me.

I let the stress-granite leave me and the lust-melting happen. I shivered as his arms wrapped around me, clutching me close as our lips fused and the kiss turned primal in its intensity.