Read Online The Everlasting Chapel by Marilyn Cruise - Free Book Online
Authors: Marilyn Cruise
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asshole, I open my
eyes and cautiously glance at him. His eyes are full of emotion,
his nostrils flared, and his entire body rigid.
“Did you do it because you were hurt and
wanted to get back at me?” he asks.
Part of me wants to say absolutely no, but
that wouldn’t be true.
“Or do you actually care about him?” he
continues.
He takes a step closer, and suddenly that
invisible power that draws us together ignites the space between
us. I notice even more now how it’s there with Michael, and how it
isn’t there with Spencer. It’s like day and night. Fire and
ice.
“I thought—” I start.
“I know what you thought. Shit, Scarlett.
We’re so messed up.” He drags a hand down his face. “I can’t even
make a promise to you, and next thing I know, you think I’ve broken
it. You don’t even give me the benefit of the doubt.”
“That’s why I don’t know what to do! Every
time I open up to you, it’s a slap in the face! I’m so fucking
tired and scared of being hurt again, Michael. Aren’t you?”
He steps closer to me, and I inch backward.
He moves toward me again, and I retreat. I feel as if I’m being
hunted by a wild predator, one who will take no prisoners. Part of
me wants for nothing else than for him to take me, to claim me as
his, but a big part of me is terrified, too.
He keeps advancing, and I keep retreating
deeper into the office. Soon I bump up against the desk and have no
more room to recoil. But he doesn’t stop. Slowly, he walks towards
me, his eyes intently on mine, burning with that same desire I’ve
seen before.
Oh. Dear. Heaven.
My breath is held hostage by his stare as my
ability to flee dwindles into nothingness. He stops a few inches
away from me, but doesn’t touch me, only glances down at me from
where he towers above.
If I just rise to my tiptoes and lean
forward, I could be kissing him. I could have his strong arms
hungrily caressing my body, his mouth and tongue driving me wild
with need, him buried deep, oh, so deep inside of me.
All of a sudden my legs feel like two
useless pieces of jelly, and oh, the burn in my lower stomach wants
nothing but to be extinguished by him. How does he do that to me?
Why is it so different with him than with Spencer? I can’t even
begin to explain it, but the difference is astounding.
“I won’t do anything until you tell me to,”
he says in a deep, raspy voice that shoots straight to my core.
“Not until you are ready to give it—to give us—your all.” His eyes
drop to my mouth, my cleavage, and he licks his lower lip.
He must be thinking of all the things he can
do and say to me to make me go off—hell, his eyes are ablaze with
lust and desire—but he’s holding it all in, waiting patiently for
me to make up my mind. If I do give him the green light, I have to
be sure I’m ready. That will mean I will be giving him my trust
again. All of it.
And I know full well, I’m not ready to take
that step. Yes you are! my body screams at me. The burn
between my legs turns into a throb, and I feel the wetness in my
panties. I lift my chin, press my hands to his rigid chest, and
rise to my tiptoes. His chest rises and falls below my palms, and
it reminds me of the staggered breaths he makes while he’s fucking
me. Oh…
He lowers his head, and our noses bump as or
lips feather-lightly brush against each other. I’m panting, and
he’s holding his breath. Oh, I need him to take me.
He reaches around my waist with one arm, and
tugs gently at my hair with the other so my head tilts backwards
just a notch.
“Goddammit, Scar. Say the words. Say them.”
He leans his hips into mine, and I feel him hard and ready.
Oh… “Shit, Michael. I need you. Please.
Just…can we just…no commitment. Just…” I press my lips to his,
putting in that kiss all the begging I can muster. But he doesn’t
react the way I want. He slowly moves away from me, clamps his
mouth shut, and breathes in and out several times.
“What is
eyes and cautiously glance at him. His eyes are full of emotion,
his nostrils flared, and his entire body rigid.
“Did you do it because you were hurt and
wanted to get back at me?” he asks.
Part of me wants to say absolutely no, but
that wouldn’t be true.
“Or do you actually care about him?” he
continues.
He takes a step closer, and suddenly that
invisible power that draws us together ignites the space between
us. I notice even more now how it’s there with Michael, and how it
isn’t there with Spencer. It’s like day and night. Fire and
ice.
“I thought—” I start.
“I know what you thought. Shit, Scarlett.
We’re so messed up.” He drags a hand down his face. “I can’t even
make a promise to you, and next thing I know, you think I’ve broken
it. You don’t even give me the benefit of the doubt.”
“That’s why I don’t know what to do! Every
time I open up to you, it’s a slap in the face! I’m so fucking
tired and scared of being hurt again, Michael. Aren’t you?”
He steps closer to me, and I inch backward.
He moves toward me again, and I retreat. I feel as if I’m being
hunted by a wild predator, one who will take no prisoners. Part of
me wants for nothing else than for him to take me, to claim me as
his, but a big part of me is terrified, too.
He keeps advancing, and I keep retreating
deeper into the office. Soon I bump up against the desk and have no
more room to recoil. But he doesn’t stop. Slowly, he walks towards
me, his eyes intently on mine, burning with that same desire I’ve
seen before.
Oh. Dear. Heaven.
My breath is held hostage by his stare as my
ability to flee dwindles into nothingness. He stops a few inches
away from me, but doesn’t touch me, only glances down at me from
where he towers above.
If I just rise to my tiptoes and lean
forward, I could be kissing him. I could have his strong arms
hungrily caressing my body, his mouth and tongue driving me wild
with need, him buried deep, oh, so deep inside of me.
All of a sudden my legs feel like two
useless pieces of jelly, and oh, the burn in my lower stomach wants
nothing but to be extinguished by him. How does he do that to me?
Why is it so different with him than with Spencer? I can’t even
begin to explain it, but the difference is astounding.
“I won’t do anything until you tell me to,”
he says in a deep, raspy voice that shoots straight to my core.
“Not until you are ready to give it—to give us—your all.” His eyes
drop to my mouth, my cleavage, and he licks his lower lip.
He must be thinking of all the things he can
do and say to me to make me go off—hell, his eyes are ablaze with
lust and desire—but he’s holding it all in, waiting patiently for
me to make up my mind. If I do give him the green light, I have to
be sure I’m ready. That will mean I will be giving him my trust
again. All of it.
And I know full well, I’m not ready to take
that step. Yes you are! my body screams at me. The burn
between my legs turns into a throb, and I feel the wetness in my
panties. I lift my chin, press my hands to his rigid chest, and
rise to my tiptoes. His chest rises and falls below my palms, and
it reminds me of the staggered breaths he makes while he’s fucking
me. Oh…
He lowers his head, and our noses bump as or
lips feather-lightly brush against each other. I’m panting, and
he’s holding his breath. Oh, I need him to take me.
He reaches around my waist with one arm, and
tugs gently at my hair with the other so my head tilts backwards
just a notch.
“Goddammit, Scar. Say the words. Say them.”
He leans his hips into mine, and I feel him hard and ready.
Oh… “Shit, Michael. I need you. Please.
Just…can we just…no commitment. Just…” I press my lips to his,
putting in that kiss all the begging I can muster. But he doesn’t
react the way I want. He slowly moves away from me, clamps his
mouth shut, and breathes in and out several times.
“What is
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