With his eyes, he follows the line his thumb strokes down my neck, and every breath I draw tastes like him. The scent of him this close is inescapable, infiltrating. His body, hardened and towering over me, is all I can see. He bends to press our foreheads together.
“Have you ever had an itch you couldn’t scratch?” he asks. The question hovers over my lips, and I shudder. His hands tighten on me, and our breaths clash between our open mouths.
I shake my head no, my eyes so heavy with desire, I want to close them, but I can’t look away.
“It itches so bad, it starts to burn.” His fingers spread over me, his hands so big he covers the space just under my breasts to my hips.
“That itch becomes the center of everything,” August continues. “You can’t focus on anything except the way it burns and that you can’t reach it, can’t touch it.”
I lean into him, limp and seduced by his words, by the scorching intensity of this moment.
“You’re my itch, Iris,” he confesses. His breath labored, he tips up my chin, so I see the desperation in his eyes. “And if you don’t step back right now, I have to scratch.”
Do it.
The dare bounces around inside my head like the ball I’m supposed to be chasing. I want it—want his kiss hard against my lips, and his hands gentle and persuasive on my body, but I have too much to lose.
Sarai.
My life.
Everything.
And as alive as I feel, as on fire as I am for what his eyes promise, I can’t risk it all. I can’t risk any of it.
Wordlessly, I step back, staring at him for a few seconds before I turn to retrieve the ball, breaking the heated current flowing from me to him.
When I return, he’s massaging his knee. Guilt stabs me. As if I haven’t cost him enough already, I was this close to jeopardizing him even more. I dribble back to the center of the floor where he stands, watching me unsmilingly. I toss him the ball, which he catches, palms with one hand, and tucks under his arm.
“I should go,” I say, but I don’t head for the gym exit.
He steps closer, leaving a few inches between us.
“You probably should,” he agrees, taking my wrist between his fingers and pulling me closer. “But you won’t. Not yet. You have another twenty minutes before you have to pick up Sarai.”
I don’t speak, but remain quiet while we study one another. He brushes hair behind my ear, and it reminds me of how Caleb likes to do that with his pistol. I shiver at the memory of Caleb’s cruelty. I shiver with the pleasure of August’s touch.
“So how’s Lotus?” he finally asks, attempting a segue to some kind of safe conversation. “Your cousin?”
I turn surprised eyes up to meet his. “You remember me telling you about her?”
His eyes caress my face. There’s no other way to describe it, really. It’s a look that kisses my cheeks and makes my lips tingle.
“Iris, I remember everything about the night we met.”
I’ve had to barricade my spirit against Caleb’s harshness. My only soft spot has been Sarai. I’ve reserved tenderness only for her, but August keeps … softening me. He keeps knocking on doors I want to keep locked. His words jangle on a ring of keys that persist in opening me up.
“Yeah. It was a great night.” I blink and drop my eyes to the scuffed court floor. “It felt like I’d known you for years.”
His finger under my chin tips my face back up so I have to look at him. “For me, too.” He smiles and lowers his hand from my face, taking warmth and comfort with it. “So Lotus. How is she?”
“Well, I haven’t really, um …” I stumble to talk about the person who’s always been closer to me than any other. “That is to say, we haven’t spoken in a long time.”
“For real?” He frowns and studies my face. “I’m surprised. You talked about her so much that night. It sounded like you guys were inseparable.”
“We were.” I clear my throat. “We are, or at least I hope we will be again. We had a falling out. Disagreed about something. You know how it is.”
I hope my shrug seems careless, but I care so much that there’s a huge void in my heart where Lotus belongs. I can’t wait until it’s safe enough to bring her back into my space. Right now, my life isn’t a safe place.