Page 39 of Sterling Touch
A warm day by the Falls. I’d flipped her around, similar toour current position, unable to look at her while still, wanting to take in every inch of her. That hunger in her eyes. A desire I don’t think I’ve ever seen when someone was looking at me.
I’d lost my head.
Then, I was touching her, and her body was responding. Before I knew it, I was inside her, absorbing all her warmth whilemyinsides were still frozen.
She’s right. I didn’t kiss her. Not like a man should kiss a woman. Not like a person should kiss someone he craves.
And that’s exactly what this is. Vale is a craving. One I need to rid from my system.
Some might argue indulge and the craving will pass. But something tells me, another bite of her, and I’ll always be insatiable.
For that reason, I fight the urge to kiss her now.
“Had other things on my mind then,” I admit. The confusion of finding her in such a secluded place near the Falls. The puzzling attraction to her. The need for familiarity after so much had crumbled in my life.
Vale watches me another second, possibly misreading me again. Maybe thinking sex was all that mattered to me that day when a million other things were colliding inside me.
Number one on the list was a deep-seated desire to be close to someone again. And failing at it.
Her brows severely pinch before she abruptly turns her head back toward the stage, dropping a curtain on the show between us.
17
[Vale]
By not answering my question, Cort was fucking dodging me again.Other things on his mind then?He’d had sex on the brain.
And I needed to right my own head because I’m standing here practically begging this man to kiss me. And he didn’t. Again.
He doesn’t want me.
My irritation grows when I realize I can’t find Kentucky or Clint in the pit, a sea of people that blurs for a second.
Don’t you dare cry over him again, Valentine Sylver.
Logically, the prickle of tears is from frustration. Perhaps pent-up sexual tension. Definitely unrequited attraction.Again.
The moment was a good reminder that Cort and I should never cross a line. One recently fuzzy, but puzzling glances and playful touches do not mean he wants to fuck me.
He didn’t like to be touched, and I wanted someone who could please me.
Additional warning bells dimly ring in my head, reminding me how hurt my brother would be if he learned I’d once held a flame for Cortland Haven, or had a yearning to ignite it again.
Which is all the reason I needed to get away from Cort.
“I should probably find Kentucky,” I blurt as a song concludes. I really like this band and I’d been excited to have a night out with an old college friend. She’s moving to Sterling Falls soon and the concert tonight was a good way to reconnect with her.
Almost as if she heard my thoughts, my phone vibrates at my hip. A crossbody strap holds a slim clear bag that meets the venue restrictions on bags, which can only fit a phone and some identification. Reaching for my phone, I notice Cort tug his out of his back pocket at the same time.
Would it be possible for you to find a ride home?
What the fuck?
Kentucky picked me up because she was scoping out Milton County for a house. She’smyride.
Not to mention, women don’t ditch women. Even if I’m half-happy for her—she deserves to have a little fun—the other half of me is envious that she’s found some fun to be had. But another half, and I know that makes my equation disproportionate, is pissed.
Pulling up her location, I notice she’s still in the bar. Maybe tucked in a corner somewhere or even pressed up against an exterior wall. Still, she hasn’t left me. Yet.
