Page 58 of Tears of Glass

The kiss lasts for all eternity, two people locked together, embracing against a kitchen worktop while the world ticks slowly by, unknowing of the moment they share. His body leans hard against mine, his erection rubbing against my pelvis. A wanton urge fires from the tips of my toes, running up my legs until I’m growing warm and slick. He lifts me, placing me on the island, spreading my legs under the black silk so he can shift between my knees. My fingers loosen the top two buttons of his shirt, pulling the already undone bowtie free of the collar. He breaks the kiss, and it’s like I’m missing oxygen. I pant a little to catch my breath and he smiles slowly.

“So, rules.” He smiles, the left side of his mouth hitching into a dangerously addictive smile.

His fingers weave with mine and he rests them on the cool marble. “I thought you didn’t like rules.” Someone has stolen the air. The walls of his expansive kitchen are shrinking, pressing in until my head feels giddy, and the air is balmy with a tropical breeze.

“No running.” His eyes appraise my face, honest and sincere. “No running from either of us. If you stay tonight, then we stay together forever. I won’t accept less.”

“Forever?” I stutter and my head shakes. “I can’t do forever. I can’t even promise a week, a month.” My head shakes again with bewilderment. “You don’t know me, Elijah. You don’t know how deep the cracks run. They are dangerous to play near, can swallow you whole.”

I shiver and his hands cup my face, holding it still. “I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole already. Madly. Deeply, just for you.”

“And your family?” I can’t help but ask. It’s because of them I hurt so bad my insides no longer feel like they belong to me.

“Truth. It’s going to be hard. We aren’t going to be walking down the driveway to Bowsley anytime soon holding hands.”

I nod slowly. I figured.

“So, either you choose I’m the one you want to fight for, the one you want to be with come whatever, Faith. Or not at all.” He moves closer so the air escaping his lips as he whispers my name floats across my skin. “I don’t want to live these three weeks again. Not ever.”

I can’t speak. Can only stare.

“We are in. Or we are out. No games.”

“Why do I feel like you’re closing a statement in court?”

His words are persuasive, painting a picture in the depths of my imagination. Him and I, perfect forever, battling demons, fusing the cracks in my universe.

I don’t know if I’m that woman. I’ve been chased by the dark for too long. Chased by the heavy and pregnant rain clouds of mistrust and despair. I search his blues, diving deep into the heart of their depths, and within them I find a glimmer of a rainbow.

I don’t know if I can trust him again.

But what would life be if I didn’t try?

I nod. Just once. Simple and precise.

Then his lips are on mine, consuming, wild, and demanding. His hands link into my hair, pulling on the strands and I groan into his mouth, part sigh, part repressed desire. I want him to make me feel whole. No, I need him to make me feel whole.

His mouth drops to the roses along my collarbone, kissing along the dusky pink blooms as I arch my back, dropping my head back so he has access to the sensitive skin along my throat. How my skin has missed him, ached for him. The straps of the dress fall under pressure from his slender fingers, and his fingertips trail in the path of his lips, until he pulls away and the trail of his kiss tingles in the midnight air.

“What’s this?” There’s an icy edge to his voice and I open my eyes and tilt my face to look at him properly.

“What?”

He’s staring aghast at the skin revealed by the drop of my dress. The skin fresh with the ink of a broken shard of glass.

“Uh, Dan did it the day of Al’s funeral.”

Elijah’s gaze is unflinching. “Dan did it?”

I nod. The words I should say tangle on my tongue. “It wasn’t the first time he’s inked me, Elijah.”

“First time because of my actions, though.”

I shrug, but his silence and the despair etched across his face makes my warm blood cool. “It’s just ink.”

He leans his hands onto the marble either side of my thighs and drops his head until it hangs down between his broad shoulders, the white starched cotton of his shirt stretching with his movement. When he rises back up there are no words to describe the war of emotions painted there. “I never wanted to be a mistake on your skin. A memory you’d rather forget.”

I pause, I remember why I had the tattoo. So I’d never forget not to trust. But Elijah, he changes everything. Changes me.