Better Not Be Love

CHAPTER 15 - THE ENCHANTRESS

"Salma, turn on the lights."

A random voice cut through the quietness, and a narrow ray of orange light pierced through the inky blackness in the cupboard a few seconds later. The room was a packed space where discarded garments were stashed. Yet my concentration was no longer on my surroundings but rather on the heat source crushing up against me.

I have had men press onto me before, specifically my ex-boyfriends, but I have always considered them nauseating. Whenever they held me in their embrace, it seemed like I was not meant to be there. The physical intimacies were more or less like an obligation that I have had to perform since I was dating them. It appeared as though I was just being with them or kissing them out of some unwritten relationship rule.

However, everything is different right now. My own pulse rate has increased beyond average, and every part of my skin that made contact with his exposed flesh has scorched like lava. My desire for Eugene has never reached such an uncontrollable extent. I needed him right then and there.

Our heights were not much different. The top of my head reached closer to his nose, his heavy breathing caressing my face and driving me insane. He had a chocolate and mint fragrance around him, and his seductive cologne was messing with my already wild hormones.

I had to summon all of my mental fortitude to refrain from leaping onto him. I was aware that he made me behave strangely, but this was still unexpected. I had never been so sexually attracted to any other person before, such that I didn't even mind doing the deed in this cramped closet. My torso was brushing up against his, and I swear our hearts were beating in unison, both frantic.

I was staring at the open space in his button-down shirt when I noticed something. A tattoo was inked in the center of his upper chest. His outfit concealed part of it, although the initial half revealed it to be a butterfly. But that was not it. Just one wing resembled a butterfly, whereas the other was something else.

I have always appreciated tattoos and have a few on me as well. Which must be why my hand surged upward almost by itself, out of sheer curiosity and adrenaline. Then I latched my fingertip on the first button and tugged it a little lower, unveiling his chest slightly.

I could feel him shudder beneath my touch, but I was just not paying much attention to it. My own hormones were raging so intensely that I assumed my heart had migrated and was now a resident in my throat. The light provided enough opportunity for me to examine the artwork, and I scrutinized it the way an archaeologist would inspect a recently excavated artifact.

It sported the framework of a butterfly and had one brilliantly designed wing. On the other half, however, crouched a skeleton with his skull in his hand, which looked bizarre but enthralling. There was something hypnotic about it, and the creepy bones kept me fascinated.

My right thumb stroked the ink reflexively, allowing me to immediately feel his throbbing heart against my palm. Was he affected by my touch? Does the near proximity drive him crazy, too?

One finger trailed down his torso, somewhere my inner goddess was aching to explore, but right before I could satisfy her, his muscular hand wrapped around my daring limb and clasped it in a vice-like hold. His skin felt warm, but so did mine.

"Don't."

His words came out as a raspy growl, and I almost couldn't believe it belonged to the soft-spoken Eugene. It was extremely hot and deep. Damn it! How am I supposed to move on from him after witnessing his macho side? It's literally impossible.

When I lifted my neck to meet his gaze, a thousand firecrackers erupted together in my stomach, enough to light an entire city. His eyes were boring into mine, and they were now laced with an unusual emotion. Something I never expected to see in him.