Until Fountain Bridge - Young Samantha - Страница 19
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After a while Adam eased our carnal kiss, releasing my swollen mouth to press soft kisses
along my jaw and down my neck as his hand slid up the inside of my thigh. I sank against the
wall with a sigh, my eyes closed as he kissed my lips again, his tongue teasing mine. His
fingers slipped under the fabric of the lacy lingerie I was wearing under my sweet dress and I
groaned into his mouth at the pressure of his fingers pushing inside of me.
Adam pulled back, his breathing as shallow as mine as he toyed with me. I closed my eyes
again, the pleasure tightening. I gripped his arm as he pushed me toward it. “Adam,” I
pleaded.
“Look at me,” his words rumbled over my mouth and I immediately opened my eyes to
find his blazing into mine. “I want to watch you come.”
I felt my cheeks flush even harder at the demand but I held his gaze as his fingers worked
me, my hips undulating against his hand, my gaze turning drowsy. Adam’s breathing grew
harsher and harsher as he watched me, and when he pressed down on my clit with his thumb
and I broke apart, clinging to him through my orgasm, he swore loudly and rested his head in
the crook of my neck.
My legs were trembling as I came down from my high, reality settling in. Confusion
overwhelmed me and I felt tears prick my eyes. Adam’s warm breath caressed my skin as he
lifted his head to whisper in my ear, “I almost came just watching you.”
I shivered, tingling all over again.
“You make me so goddamn hard,” he confessed and he gently lifted my hand to press it to
his erection straining against his trousers. Triumph melted the confusion away for a second, a
powerful feeling of victory taking over me as I caressed him and felt his groans of pleasure
against my ear. At least he wanted me. At least he was in torment over that.
“You don’t stop, baby,” he peeled my hand away with a regretful sigh, “I’m going to
blow.”
When he lifted his head our eyes met and he saw the tears shining in mine and pushed
away from me with another curse. Running his hand through his hair, Adam sighed heavily,
“I shouldn’t have done that. Els, I’m sorry.” His face crumpled and I saw the self-flagellation in his expression.
“Why?” I asked softly, needing to know once and for all what was happening to us. “Why
shouldn’t you have done it? Why can’t we be together?”
Those gorgeous dark eyes of his lifted to mine in surprise, as if he couldn’t believe I didn’t
understand. “Because of Braden, Els. He’s my best friend. He’s family. I can’t take the risk
that he won’t forgive me for…” he gestured helplessly to me.
The warmth from the aftermath of the orgasm he’d given me was destroyed by the chill
his words created in me. I stood up from the wall and tried to control that burning lump in my
throat. “But I’m willing to. I’m willing to because I’m in love with you. You know I’m in
love with you.”
The lack of surprise on his face was confirmation.
I shook my head, laughing bitterly as I wiped at tears that had begun to fall. “All these
years, even now, you’ve told me all you ever wanted to do was protect me from getting hurt.
And yet you say things and do things to confuse me, to make me think you might feel the
same way that I feel about you, and then in the next second you’re cold and you flaunt other
women in front of me.” The tears fell fast now and I could see Adam’s own eyes starting to
shimmer with pain. I didn’t care. I had to get this over with. “The only person who’s ever
really hurt me is you. And I keep letting you.”
“Ellie,” he sounded in pain as he took a step toward me. He stopped though, the pain
transferring to his eyes when I moved away from him. “I do love you,” he admitted and
instead of feeling joy at those words, the last piece of me holding onto hope crumbled.
I shook my head. “But not enough.”
“You know that’s not true. Els, you of all people have to understand. If you and me start
something and it all goes south, I lose Braden too. I’ll lose the two people in the world who
mean anything to me.”
I wanted to understand him. I tried to understand the reasons behind people’s actions
because I wanted to believe the best in everyone. But all I knew was that I loved him enough
to risk it all—to risk our history— for something more, and the fact that he wasn’t willing
told me he couldn’t possibly feel the way I felt about him. I didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone I loved more than he’d ever love me.
“Go home, Adam,” I replied softly. “We’re done.”
His eyes widened in shock. “Ellie—”
“I’ll pretend for Braden. When we’re all together, I’ll pretend for Braden that nothing has
changed between you and me.” I held his gaze, attempting to be strong as I ended us. “But
whatever this is, it’s over. Everything. Don’t call me, don’t visit… just don’t. I don’t want
you near me when you don’t have to be. It hurts too much, and if you care about me even just
a little bit, you’ll stay away from me.”
I didn’t let him reply. I couldn’t. I turned and strode down the hall and into my room,
closing the door behind me and leaning against it while I tried to catch my breath.
There was silence in the hallway for what seemed like forever, and then finally I heard the
front door open and close quietly.
The burn in my throat burst out into sobs, and I slid down the door panting for breath
through the pain…
Chapter 8
“Most miserable bloody weeks of my life after that.” Adam turned the pages, scanning my
sparse entries after that night.
I slid my hand around the nape of his neck and gave it a squeeze. “Me too, honey.”
He lifted my hand from his neck and brought it around to give my knuckles an
absentminded kiss. “The night at Jenna and Ed’s wedding was fucking torture.”
Agreed. We’d both taken dates. I’d taken Nicholas just to be particularly annoying and
Adam had taken some random girl with him. Although I’d flitted around the wedding acting
my cheery self and steadfastly refusing to look Adam’s way, it was one of the most painful
experiences of my life.
Adam threaded my fingers through his and rested our hands on his lap. “Here it is.” He
held the diary up.
“What?” I frowned, trying to read my writing.
“I’m fast forwarding to my wake up call.”
Monday, December 17th
I’m writing this as quickly as I can because I can see Adam is about to rip the pen from my hand and use whatever means at his disposal to bring my attention back to him. Since I like the means he will use I need to get this down. It’s been an utterly exhausting weekend but
today I woke up feeling stronger than I have in a while. This morning I woke up to something beautiful, and I swear after the last week I’ve had, I didn’t think that was possible…
Focusing on a crack in my ceiling I determinedly attempted to push the fear and
desperation back. There was this buried part of me that kept trying to push up and grip my
chest from the inside out to pull me to it to whisper desolately, “I’m not ready to die.”
Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop…
I couldn’t think like that.
But it was what I’d been hiding from for months. When my doctor told me I needed
glasses I’d ignored my own instincts and grabbed onto that solution with utter relief.
Still, the headaches kept coming, the exhaustion worsened as the anxiety I kept hidden
from everyone built and built.
Ten days ago I’d had a seizure in my kitchen. I was terrified but also strangely relieved as
I sat in the hospital and waited for my turn on the MRI—sick to my stomach with fear but
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