Leather Bound
Page 25
I was getting used to seeing the world in a new light. Once, I might have considered myself to be observant, at least when I didn’t have my head in a book. But now I realised that most of us were blind to the world, walking through it so filled with our own expectations that we couldn’t see the things that were in front of us. And of course, that was something that the Keyhole Club took full advantage of. Assuming most of the world would never see anything more than we needed or wanted to see. What else was I missing every day? I wondered. What world moved beneath us and above us that I was still oblivious to? I couldn’t wait to find out.
Davian curled his fingers around the back of my neck, drawing me forward. He didn’t kiss me, as I’d expected. Instead he dropped his forehead softly to mine and kept my gaze tight with his. He exhaled softly, a gesture that seemed oddly intimate, considering the things we’d done together, but somehow it calmed my mind for a moment, allowed me to stop the vibrations of my body. I leaned against him for a long moment. This was just lust and being overwhelmed. It didn’t mean anything that his breath against my lips calmed me, quieted me, prepared me for whatever came next.
Leaving his forehead against mine, his eyes closing just slightly as if in anticipation of what was coming, Davian pushed a second button, and we rushed to the top floor in a way that my body wasn’t prepared for.
The weight of arousal was something I thought I’d carried my whole life, but it seemed that the deeper I got into this … experience, whatever it was, the heavier it got. Not that it was a burden. More that my lust was solidifying its gravity in my life. It was something I was getting used to, and coming to enjoy. But there were moments, like now, flying up who knew how many storeys in an elevator to a party with the man I loved and lusted after, when I felt like I was in someone else’s story, a story that I never wanted to leave.
I was grateful for Davian’s presence, for the press of his forehead to mine, the curl of his hand at the back of my neck, and the soft breaths that allowed me to close my eyes and remember that this was exactly where I belonged.
When the elevator dinged, I hadn’t even realise we’d stopped.
* * *
I suppose there comes a moment in every woman’s life when she chooses, or is pushed, to become different from what she was. Those of us who are lucky enough to have friends who know us well may get that chance when we least expect it.
As the elevator doors opened, my gaze fell on all the people who were part of the Keyhole Club. Some I knew and some I didn’t yet. But the people who stood out the most were those who were part of my life, the ones who’d helped shape me and move me into this new place. Kyle, looking stunning as he always did, his arm around his new girlfriend. Lily, who was caught up in Kitty’s embrace, her booming laughter echoing across the room. Stefan, who was holding court with Jay in the corner. Others who’d played a part, small or large, in this adventure that was my life.
The only person missing was Conrad. I knew Davian felt it too, from the way he took my hand, tightening his fingers around mine.
Often in my life I’d wanted to be someone else. One of my literary heroines, one of those fierce, smart women who faced her inner fears and did and said all of the right things. It took me a long time to realise that I was just like those women. Sometimes I screwed up and sometimes things seemed impossible, but the way to the happy ending is never easy. If it was easy, it wouldn’t be a very good story, would it?
Bound by love and lust and a leather-wrapped book, Davian and I stepped from the elevator, hand in hand.
Hello, happy ending.
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Copyright
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Mischief
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Copyright © Shanna Germain 2013
Shanna Germain asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Ebook Edition © 2013 ISBN: 9780007509515
Version 1
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