The Mysterious Stranger by Ainslie Paton

Author:Ainslie Paton [Paton, Ainslie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Supervised by Cats
Published: 2019-08-26T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

God. Fuck. Zeke’s world exploded, shattered into a zillion pieces, and took the core of him with it. He was stardust, space trash. He was kissing Aurora Rae Archer. Softly, slowly, as carefully as he knew how, for the unadulterated erotic privilege of it.

Her hands started on his face as if she was scared he’d disappear. He should’ve gotten the fuck out of this cabin, but greedy bastard that he was, he’d reached for her and now he held her, his sun—the singular point he’d lazily orbited his whole life—tight enough to make her gasp; to make him tremble.

This was a cataclysm, and he’d be sucked into a black hole of oblivion if he let this go on, but magnetic forces he couldn’t name and would never understand made her wrap her arms and legs around him and bite his lip.

That bite, sharp, stinging; the way she pulled on his bottom lip and pressed on his cock; the grind she set up. It made his head spin. There’s no up or down in space, no way to tell which way you’re headed and nothing to hold you down. He anchored all of himself in the kiss, in the angle of their faces and the silk of her skin, the full, plump draw of her lips and the taste of her mouth. He couldn’t contain all of her, capture enough of her light and warmth, her life-giving force. The risk of her was more than any big wave surfed, mountain climbed, parachute jump. Rory was his endgame and he didn’t know how to pull up, drift through and avoid the insanity.

He was halfway across the room, trying to stop his brain leaking out of his eyes and she was sprawled on her ass before he knew what he’d done.

“We can’t do that.”

“Zeke.” His one-syllable name rattled on her breath, drawn out with longing that made him bend forward and cover his head with his arms. He could not make sense of this. It was an illusion. Some kind of lust bends brought on by deep immersion in this off-kilter world. It was a way of grasping the familiar when everything was shifting and uncertain.

“We can’t. We fucking can’t.”

“You want this as much as I do.”

He straightened up and paced the room. Keep moving, keep away from her, don’t look at her. If you look at her, you asshole, you are lost forever. “We can get ourselves killed this way.”

She knew that was the truth. He heard her stand. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice so small and fragile he couldn’t not turn to her. He’d knocked her down. He’d made her sorry. Fuck, she was beautiful, standing there her hair loose from its band. He’d done that, pulled it out so he could have its inky length in his fingers. Her face was swathed in moonlight and her eyes glittered, seeing what in him after this? Misguided friend, enemy, betrayer.

Ticking fucking time bomb.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said.

Upset him? She thought he was angry with her.

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