Thirteen (Love by Numbers Book 4) (22 page)

Read Thirteen (Love by Numbers Book 4) Online

Authors: E.S. Carter

Tags: #Fiction

BOOK: Thirteen (Love by Numbers Book 4)
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I lean down, my lips hover over hers, our eyes still locked on each other. “You’re my extraordinary, Lilah. I’m not sure if that’s a sign, but it says it all for me.” Then I kiss her, gently, reverently and with all the words I want to say, but now isn’t the right time to say them. Instead, I pour those words into our kiss.

I’m in love with you, Bunny Girl.

Be my extraordinary.

 

N
ate’s apartment is twice the size and ten times more luxurious than my place.

Two officers chaperoned us to the building and have taken up residence in the foyer until they have Wayne in custody.

I don’t think he’ll try anything again, but then, I didn’t think he was capable of what he’s already done. I want him locked away for a long, long time.

In fact, they can throw away the key for all I care.

“Earth to Lilah.”

Harry’s voice breaks into my silent perusal of our surroundings, and I turn to look into his handsome face.

“I’m running you a bath, thought you might like a soak in the tub while I order in some food. Chinese okay with you?”

His thoughtfulness and eagerness to return to some type of normalcy is all it takes for the floods to open. I choke back a sob, my tears threatening to overflow, “Can you just hold me for a little while?”

He’s in front of me in a heartbeat, his strong arms wrapping around my waist and drawing me towards the warmth of his chest.

“I can hold you for however long you want.” He whispers into my hair, his arms tightening their grip on my body.

I all but collapse into his embrace, letting his strength hold us both up while I feel like I’m coming apart.

“I’m sorry,” I hiccup into his now sodden t-shirt. “I just…”

“Shh, don’t apologise. It’s not a sign of weakness to cry, Lilah. If anything, it’s a sign of strength. Bottling things up is how people become weak. I should know.”

His strong hands smooth up and down my back, making me sink further into his embrace. I want to melt into him, become one with his skin, live inside his warmth.

“Make love to me, Harry.”

I don’t even think; I just say the words I feel, the words that my voice has ached to release.

His hands still, the soothing stroke up and down my spine stops.

Will he reject me? Have I just fucked everything up?

His hands begin, once again, to gently caress my back. “I want nothing more than to make love to you, but I’m worried I’d be taking advantage of you when all you need is comfort. I’m not going anywhere, Lilah, and the first time I make you mine is something I want you to always remember because I know I will never be able to forget it.”

I pull away from him so I can look him in the eye, and he can see the truth of just how much I need him this way. “That’s one of the many reasons I want, no I
need
you to make love to me right now. I want to always remember too; I want you to take away this day and replace it with something beautiful. Replace it with
us.”

Please don’t reject me again. I’ve just laid myself bare to you.

He shudders out a breath, his striking grey eyes staring deep into mine and I focus on that ring of deep blue around his iris that seems to darken by the second. I see the moment he decides he’s not going to hold back, his eyelids drop ever so slightly, desire taking over his thoughtful frown, and then his lips are on mine. The kiss is gentle at first, almost like he’s using his soft lips to memorise every crease of mine. I feel every sweep of his mouth, right down to my toes, even on the foot that I no longer have, that’s how consuming his touch is.

Without deepening the kiss, he pulls back and his lust-glazed eyes open to take in my features. The desire that was there before has morphed into an all-out inferno and that one look registers low in my belly.

“God, you’re perfect.”

He says the words as if they are just a thought in his brain, not a vocalisation leaving his plump lips. I love when he speaks without knowing he’s giving a voice to his thoughts.

“Take me to your bed, Harry.” My voice sounds nothing like me. It’s raw and laced with obvious lust.

I don’t need to ask again as in one fluid movement I am scooped up into his arms and carried purposefully towards the bedroom, his mouth crashes down on mine, consuming any further rational thoughts.

When he pulls away, I open my kiss dazed eyes to a sparsely decorated bedroom, and we are standing at the foot of an unmade double bed.

Harry notices my observation and clears his throat, “I… umm… only moved in this morning. Haven’t had a chance to unpack yet.”

I stare at his earnest face, and the sheepish smile he gives me kick starts my libido. “Let’s christen your new bed. Call it a moving in celebration.”

His smiles turns into to a full blown, knicker-melting grin, “You’re something else, Delilah Chastity Tremere.” Then his mouth is on mine once more, as he slowly lays me down on the centre of the bed.

His lips move from mine, to my jaw, then to that soft spot behind my ear, before travelling deliciously slow down my neck.

A tight white t-shirt covers my now heaving breasts, and he nips and licks around the scoop neckline, leaving open-mouthed kisses over every inch of exposed skin. I feel as though I’m burning up, and I’m seconds away from clawing his clothes off, but before I can, he straddles my waist and knees Ally-tastic in the process, immediately breaking the spell that’s been woven between us.


Shit,
I’m sorry… did I hurt you?”

His firm chest brushes my breasts with every breath. His moist, kiss-swollen lips hover mere inches from mine and I want to scream ‘kiss me
more
, touch me
more
, feel me
more
’, but I don’t because I can see this might be the part where he freaks out and remembers I’m the girl with one leg.

I blink and steel myself for the inevitable rejection, “No, you didn’t hurt me, but it’s probably best if I take her off.”

“Her?” His forehead furrows in confusion.

“Ally-tastic, my umm… my fake leg. She’s a… she.”

My next heartbeat feels like it takes too long, until he breaks into a huge smile and laughs, his warm breath skating over my skin.

“She’s a she? You crack me up, Bunny Girl.” He places a sweet kiss on the tip of my nose and rolls off me onto his back. I feel the loss of his body immediately and a cold shiver skates down my spine.

When I don’t begin to move, he props himself up on his elbow and leans across to trace the seam of my lips. “What are you waiting for, Bunny Girl?” His sexy grin creates butterflies in my stomach, but they aren’t strong enough to fight off the nerves that dominate my body.

His eyes drop to my leg and then back to my face, “I can give you some privacy if you want...” I interrupt him mid-sentence, “No!” My hand shoots out to catch his, “I’m sorry, what I meant to say was, don’t leave, I’m just having a funny five minutes, it’s just that…” I trail off not sure how to put into words the fear that bubbles inside.

A soft hand cups my cheek, bringing my gaze back to his. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere, don’t ever feel like you need to shy away from me. I want you. I want
all
of you. I want every piece of you that you are willing to share with me.”

God. This man, he’s… perfect. Perfect to me. Perfect for me.

I swallow down my nerves, laying my hand over his, “Before I share this with you I want you to understand that I know you’re not him.”

He doesn’t reply but doesn’t take his eyes off me and I use this as a sign to carry on.

“He’s the only man I’ve been with and it’s hard for me to accept that the way he reacted to my body isn’t going to be the way that you react.”

He opens his mouth to speak, and I silence him by placing the tips of my fingers to his mouth.

“We were only ever intimate in the dark, and he always made sure the bottom half of my body was covered with the bed sheets so that he didn’t have to…” I stumble on my words, this admission something I’ve never shared with anyone before. “So that he didn’t have to look at my stump.”

I’m mortified that I have to share this with him and maintaining eye contact, when I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks, is impossible. “He said I repulsed him, that I made him feel physically sick.” I look back into his handsome face and catch anger burning behind his eyes. “I… don’t, what I mean is…”


Stop.
Look at me Lilah, really look at me.”

His anger is replaced by what sounds like sadness. Is this the part where he finally tells me he can’t do this? That I sicken him?

“I am
not
him, and you, you are so incredibly beautiful that I feel like I may just burst if I don’t get to see every inch of you; if I don’t get to
worship
every inch of you. Don’t ever hide from me, Bunny Girl. I see
all
of you; I see everything that makes you the most spectacular woman I have ever met.”

He means it; he means every word.

“Spectacular, hey?”

His thumb gently traces my cheekbone, “What can I say? I think I may have swallowed a dictionary because I have many more words like astonishing, magnificent, wondrous and remarkable that I could and will use to describe you, but most of all, you’re breathtaking. You took my breath that very first day, and I don’t want it back; I finally have air in my lungs, because of you.”

Then he kisses me like he’s using his very last breath to do so.

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