THE DESIRE

Our lips are pleadingly and daintily blooming against one another. My eyelids closed a long time ago, but I can still feel his vigorously appealing gaze sweeping across my face. Due to the impending malfeasance, my heart is loudly thumping with the sound of rejoicing. Although it shouldn't be, it is.


This burning urge shouldn't be there, but it is. In his arms, I shouldn't be feeling this frail and convulsing, yet I do. Nothing is under my control, not even the sin that is beckoning to me. I cannot control my urge.

I am fully cognizant that everything about this is all wrong, yet it's just so compelling. This is extremely difficult for me to resist. I can't... Any other idea escapes my mind as he aggressively yet gently places his lips against mine. Right now, the only thing I want is to taste this sweet sin and fully squish in his kisses.

I exclaim with excitement as I open my mouth to finally taste him, glad that the dreadful longing won't last long as I am about to quench it. He leans in more and presses his tongue firmly on the entrance, but just when it was so perfect to have a taste of him...


"Shit!"

He curses as our eyes open to the grating buzz of his phone.


Damn! Couldn't the caller have had better timing? Fuck whoever that is! I'm hurt—really hurt!

I scoff as he fishes out his iPhone while cradling me in his arms and swipes the green button to talk to the person on the other end of the line. Perhaps a bitch in need of gym services, or even better, his wife or fiancée. Shit! Even the mere thought of that makes my blood boil.

"George!" he calls.

I feel myself unravelling in his arms as he chants. At least it's not the opposite gender that only knows how to seduce the devil and eat forbidden fruits. Sigh!

Was I really so nervous? Why the hell should it matter whether the guy is having an affair with someone? or, much better, a wife? I shouldn't be astounded by it. Given the luxuries and the aesthetic demeanor, if not the age, he is certain to have one. For crying out loud, he is a man and needs someone to warm his bed and exercise his tool. Why does it bother me that I think of him as affiliated with a woman? I must be losing my mind. Utterly insane!

"Are you okay?" He says this, and I stop gawking at his stunning features in shock.

Goodness! I missed all of his conversation because I was so preoccupied with my own crazy, perplexing ideas.

"Yeah." I mutter and, with his aid, begin dragging my forlorn self to the settee.

"I'll go get the bath ready for you." He states this after ensuring that I am comfortably settled on the couch.

I don't respond to him because, well, I'm at a loss as to why. I keep going back to that instant before his freaking call. Even though I haven't tasted his lips in reality, I have been chewing them in my mind. My memory of our lips moving in rhythm together and hearing him groan in ecstasy is still vivid. And you tell me that I'm not losing my mind?

His quirky, muscular body diverts my attention as he deviates from me, matching the stairs. Whatever allure his demeanor and his overall appearance exude, it is not good at all for a heartbroken babe like me with nothing left to lose. I am almost certain that I desire him in a new dangerous way now—not as my guardian angel, my impossible host, my tour guide, or my idiotic gym trainer—curse that a million times! Gym my foot! I desire him as a man.

This is ridiculously disturbing and disastrous, especially since he is starting to notice it. Truth be told, particularly after that day at the beach, I truly struggle to put into words how I feel having him around. When it comes to men, I've always been a snooty, conceited bitch! Everyone who crossed paths with me, including that moron Leo, can attest to that. He had to beg me nonstop for months before I finally believed that he wasn't only after sex. Well, maybe I didn't study him well; that is why he pulled such a long one on me. Sigh! But this guy, this stranger who doesn't feel like a stranger at all, is flouting my norms rapidly. Even the mere notion of him prompts my walls to tremble. I'm not quite sure why, but my body seems to be warming up to him in a way that I can't quite decipher. He is like ice and fire, and I am afraid of what he is doing to me.

"It's ready."

There, the irritatingly hot chills once more, enthusiastically recognizing his presence. As if they are so accustomed to hearing his voice. It's mind-boggling how my hair rises in arousal every time he comes this close. He poses a serious threat to the brand-new side of me that I was unaware even existed. Where did it remain buried for all those years? And why did it only surface now, huh?

Damn!

I look up at his glittering face, asking questions on my own. A very attractive curve is formed above his right eye, stretching the eyebrow to the farthest north corner, giving yet another endearing aspect to his appealing demeanor.

Mental bell!!

You are ogling him again, Ellie, and he is wondering why!

Sigh!

He never ceases to mystify me, and I suppose he will have to put up with my oddities for the next 72 hours. Every time I look at him, I attempt to pinpoint the one thing about him that makes him so exceptional from all the other guys I have met in my life—the one unique quality that is attracting me to him in this way, the source of this intense spark—but I always end up failing. Ellie Marrie, however, is not a failure. I'm determined to figure it out.