Kiss the Stars (Falling Stars 1)

Depravity written in my DNA.

This elusive feeling pounded around us. A song that started low.

A melody ushering in what was to come.

Dark and mesmerizing and sexy as fuck.

“What if I don’t want you to push me away? What if we were meant to be right here? Even if it is only for tonight?” She blinked hard, her teeth raking her plump bottom lip, making it glisten and my mouth water. “Do you feel it? Whatever this is?”

Rough laughter broke free, and I couldn’t even answer that question. Because if I did, I knew there would be no stopping the direction this would go.

“You don’t have the first clue what you’re asking for, gorgeous,” I told her instead.

Didn’t even know why it mattered. Why I cared. Clearly, this party was all about excess. Over-indulging. And taking of this girl would be nothing but gluttony.

“You’re right. I don’t. But what if I want to know you? Maybe I stumbled in here and found exactly what I’ve been looking for.” Vulnerability flashed across her striking face. Nothing weak about it.

I was getting the feeling that maybe for the first time in a long time, she was feeling brave. Pushing herself to take a step that she should know better than taking.

“And maybe you’re looking in all the wrong places,” I tossed back, voice grit, and still I was tucking her closer. Her unforgettable face pinched in confusion, girl so damned pretty she was hard to look at.

Stoic and soft.

Determined and pliable.

In contemplation, she pursed her lips, that mouth painted in this lust-inducing red, a stark contrast to the pure-white of her dress.

Her head slowly shook.

I saw it for what it was.

Regret.

Disappointment.

Acceptance.

Neither of us owed the other anything.

Yet somehow, it felt like I did.

I owed her this—walking away.

I knew better than to dip my fingers into places where real beauty lived.

She wound herself out of my tight grip.

“I guess I usually do find myself in the wrong places,” she said, words thick.

I had the urge to apologize.

For me. For who I was. For who I wasn’t ever going to be.

And I didn’t even know her goddamn name.

Realized in that second that I was in more danger than she was.

That I was the one with more to lose.

That this angel had me enraptured.

Taken in a heartbeat.

My phone dinged and vibrated in my pocket. Sound of it jolted us both from the cocoon.

I dug it free and took a quick glance at the message.

Lyrik West: Where are you, asshole? Been looking for you the last thirty minutes. Meeting in downstairs office in five.Could almost hear the smirk in the dude’s voice. Had known him for all of forever. Since all the way back to who I’d been, and he’d still invited me here. Up until three days ago, I’d thought there wasn’t a thing in the world that could temp me into returning to this fuckin’ wasteland of a city. Was stupid as shit, relenting.

Coming here nothing but reckless.

A death wish.

Yet here I was.

I glanced back at the girl who stood there fidgeting, that dress hugging her slim curves that I was itching to memorize, face so damned pretty I was having a hell of a time looking away.

She was nothing but temptation.

Sweet motherfucking temptation.

I tucked my phone back into my pocket. “Have to go.”

Her eyes squeezed close for a beat as she said, “I get it.”

“No, you don’t.”

Thing was, I didn’t want her to. Because this girl was looking at me like she might actually be able to see through all of the bullshit, and that was not a place I could let her go.

I moved for the door. Energy stretched tight, a connection I didn’t anticipate flying frantic around the room. The hollowness carved out at the center of me teased and taunted.

Another penalty.

Fact it was always gonna be there and there was no way to make amends.

No way to fill it.

At the double doors, I twisted the lock. Halfway out, I paused and looked back at her from over my shoulder.

Her arms were crossed over her chest, girl standing beneath the massive stained-glass window with her face tipped up to the sky. Moonlight streamed in and covered her in a silvery hue.

A black river of hair cascaded down her back, brushing over her skin that was close to white in the halo of murky light.

Angel.

But I didn’t get a savior.

Not when I was the devil.

She cut those sable eyes my direction.

“Wish I was him,” I told her, words grating up my throat, unable to stop the betrayal before it was out.

But if it were a different lifetime, if this past didn’t exist, I’d want to be him.

The kind of guy who could ask her for her name and her number like a normal-fucking-human being.

Maybe date her. Kiss her and hold her and treat her the way she clearly deserved to be.