Don't Forget To Breathe by Cathrina Constantine

Author:Cathrina Constantine [Constantine, Cathrina]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2021-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

“Do you know how long I waited for you to get your shit together?” Becket’s dreamy eyes chased over me. “Nine months ago, I drove you home from a party. You were so smashed and passed out in my car.”

“No. That’s not true. I’d remember.” My brain searched into my druggy archives. Zilch.

“You didn’t remember a damn thing because a few days later, I tried talking to you and you snubbed me.”

Thunderstruck and mortified. Those months had melded together, a surreal daymare of sorts. What did I say to him nine months ago? What did I do with him?

“Nona would’ve told me,” I said ruefully.

“Nona wasn’t there. It was a party in Getzville, and I was surprised to see you walk in with Skipper Townsend. One look at you and I knew I had to get you out of there. I never said a word to anyone.”

“What happened… exactly?”

“I can never be just a friend.” His hand skimmed the length of my arm, and with the other, he cupped the side of my neck and guided me to meet his mouth in a scorching kiss. I wanted more, much more. My fingers traveled over his chest, feeling the strength beneath his sweater. Smoothing them around to his back, I closed the space between us.

Becket slipped his lean fingers into my hair, and his other hand dipped lower, pressing the small of my back into him. My body melted in his arms, responding to his touch and yearning for more. His tongue teased my lips, my mouth, teaching me the art of seduction. A wave of unfathomable sensations rocked me to my core. My shirt rode up and his palm sizzled across my bare skin. My blood boiled like molten lava. I quivered as he wrapped his arms around me while I teetered on my toes until he drew me up, putting pressure where our hips met. Quivering, boiling blood erupted in my veins.

Following his lead, I found the hem of his sweater and slipped my hand underneath. I explored his firm skin and bunching muscles. He groaned, intensifying his kiss. Succumbing to meet his need, I vowed to throw all inhibitions to the wind. His throbbing demand was evident, and I greedily held onto a bit of heaven.

Unpredictably, Becket shoved me away. His chest heaved in choppy breaths, and his eyes darkened to limpid pools of desire. Camouflaging his obvious hunger and in a sultry inflection, he said, “That’s why we can’t be just friends.”

My unfulfilled hunger sputtered and diminished. No cool retort came to mind.

“You’re back to the silent treatment?” His biceps bulged while he stabbed fingers through his golden hair. “I should go,” he said, looking out of his element.

“No, stay.”

“Ah...she speaks.”

“You just got here. Um...sit down.” I turned toward the couch, then choose the recliner.

“Smart move,” he said. “But, if I really wanted to ravage your body, I’d take you into the bedroom without the picture window for everybody to watch.”

The curtains had been drawn to their outer frames.

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