Amour Amour (Aerial Ethereal #1)(59)

His lips suddenly meet mine with force and urgency, his hands wrapping around my small frame like he’s wanted to hold me all night. My heart explodes. I explode, his tongue parting my lips in the fieriest kiss, one that grips my core. One that knocks my back into the shelves.

I struggle for breath—high on his touch, the way he lifts me around his waist, breaking open my legs. He deepens an already sweltering kiss, his hot hand protective on my neck, his thumb caringly brushing my skin while the rest of him—masculine, powerful—rushes through me.

I brace myself by clutching his arms; my body has won out to my mind. I’ve been overtaken, overpowered, overpleasured.

My lips sting as he slows down an already strong kiss, his chest rock hard against me. I feel unwound, flyaway strands of hair sticking up—like he electrocuted me.

He kind of did.

My spine digs into the metal shelf, and Nikolai kisses my cheek, my forehead, as though I’m precious enough for more than just the thrill. He gives me the unhurried, measured moments, the kisses that seem to ache more.

A noise trembles my throat, a breathless cry.

He lets out a deeper sound against my neck. And his red glow necklace stares back at me, a blinding reminder of all that I don’t understand.

What are we doing? What is this? My mind has revived and come to haunt me.

“I…don’t understand,” I whisper.

He only draws back to cup my face. His lips are a stinging distance away. I can still feel the force of them, the heat of them, on me. His mouth curves upward some, as though he finds my confusion funny.

“It’s not funny,” I whisper.

“You’re cute,” he tells me. “I thought my actions said enough.”

He likes me. “There is…something between us then?” I wonder. I haven’t been fantasizing about the tension. It hasn’t been one-sided. It’s just been ignored.

He stares so deeply into me. “There is definitely something, my demon.” His lips rise more.

I can hear my heart beating. The bass from the club vibrates the shelf behind me, adding to my elevated senses. “What now?” I ask. I shift my hands from his biceps to his shoulders, skimming the red glow necklace. It’s where most of my uncertainty lies.

He kisses me again, slowly, his fingers along my neck. It’s languid and relaxed, like we’ve done this all our lives together. When he parts, he whispers, “I’ve been hesitating because I don’t want to step in the way of your dreams.”

I try not to fear that. I understand my goals. But—I don’t like looking at the bad things before they happen. It’s not worth it. “You won’t.”

He gives me a look like wake up, myshka. “I don’t want my attraction for you to ruin all that you’ve sacrificed,” he rephrases.

It doesn’t deter me. “Is it impossible to love two things equally? I mean, not that I love you…I just…” I blow out a breath. I’m screwing this up. I fail at words sometimes. We’re just at a crossroads of are we pursuing this or leaving it behind?

He tilts my chin so I meet his eyes again. “I understand what you mean.”

“I just—I don’t want to believe that a love for one thing will overtake the love for another.” It’s a cynical view, isn’t it? Or maybe mine is just a hopelessly optimistic one.

“Today, if I gave you the option between the circus and a man, you would choose the circus. But later—”

“I’ll choose the circus,” I say.

He gives me that same look. I don’t want to wake up yet. “I can’t be a reason you give up on your dreams.”

“I won’t.”

The way he’s staring at me. It hits me. His rules. No boyfriends. Not even him. I feel like he’s about to crush something that hasn’t even started yet. “Nikolai—”

“But I realized something tonight.” His eyes hold so many painful, conflicting truths. Realities that I need to meet. “I realized that it’s too late. I distract you—you distract me. And since I don’t want to distance myself from you, there’s only one option.”

His gaze flits to my lips, and he kisses me tenderly, my body winding tight.

I inhale strongly as he presses even further up against me. Clutching me. He’s saying that he wants me. I can see it. I can feel it. My eyes burn at the unspoken proclamation.

In a whisper, he says, “And I’ll still train you.”

The next kiss is so soulful that I feel the promise within it: to never stand in the way of my dreams. I breathe heavily as he draws back again. His chest rises and falls deeply, waiting for me to speak, giving me a choice to accept or deny this new turn.

Nikolai may assume a lot of things, but when it comes to my own life—he steps back and lets me pick left or right.

“You’re complicated?” I ask, eyeing the red glow necklace.

He stiffens. “My past relationship is. I haven’t been looking for anything recently, and I didn’t even look for you.” He pauses. “This was unintentional.”

It became something more without noticing. Without realizing. “Am I a mistake—”

“No, myshka. You’re just the unexpected, beautiful thing in my life.”

My heart is full tonight. I can hardly breathe as it swells. I’ve never felt this way. “As long as she’s not still in the picture…” That scenario is too devastating to jump into.