Blasphemous (Torn #3)(21)
On the fourth day, I was disconcerted when Dimitris entered the cottage with Bass hanging on his arm as he gently lowered him down on his bed.
“Bass!” I shrieked, rushing to his side. “What happened to him, Dimitris?”
“He had an accident on the set. I don’t get it,” he said with profound confusion. “We practiced the fight scenes for almost three weeks now, each one went great, but today, he seemed like he didn’t care and I accidentally hit him straight in the head.” Sighing, he glanced at me with worried eyes. “He’s already been examined, but he declined medication. He just needs sleep. Give him a day or two and he’ll be okay. I’m sorry that I can’t stay longer, Emma, but I need to attend a benefit in Athens tonight,” Dimitris said as he started to take Bass’s shoes off. I interrupted his chore and did it myself.
I gave him a hug, releasing him after a minute. “Thank you and have fun at the benefit.” Dimitris let himself out since I didn’t want to leave the room.
Hovering over his resting form, I slowly took care of his jeans, easing them off his body. I trained my eyes not to check on his bulge since it was clearly inappropriate, but hell, I almost gave in. Bass had a fat, sizable one that went hand in hand with his appetite.
Sitting right next to his arm, I touched his face, trying to wake him gently. “Bass, what happened? Are you hurting? Is there anything I can get you to make you feel better? How about an icepack?”
“I need a kiss,” he made an audible whisper, eyes still shut.
Blinking a few times, I was perturbed, thinking I misheard him. He did, after all, just have a big blow to the head. “Sorry, what?”
“Kiss me.”
Was he trying to make a joke out of this? Well, I wasn’t amused. “I’m being serious, Bass.”
“Me, too. A kiss will make me feel better.”
“Are you really serious? An icepack would do wonders compared to my kiss.” He was being incredulous.
“You asked, Emma. If you don’t want to kiss me, it’s okay.”
Heck, if a kiss was going to help, then I’ll give him one. “One kiss, then I’m going to get you an icepack.”
Bass gave me a small nod as I lowered my lips to meet his, brushing them softly. I was too caught up in the moment when Bass opened his lips and responded to it in a measured, yet sweet, slow but passionate kiss. Then, after a minute, the tempo changed. I was taken aback when he rolled me onto my back, his large frame atop my heated body as he continued devouring my lips with his voracious appetite. “Bass! What the hell are you—”
I smacked his chest when I saw him grinning, eyes dancing with mischief. “Do you really think a little punch would knock me out? Come on, babe; give me a little credit here. I did it on purpose so I could come home to you. I also knew that you wouldn’t be able to refuse when I demanded a kiss to make me feel better. I’ve missed you. I missed us.”
“Wow. You are a crazy, plotting man.”
“This man, my love, is the product of your making,” he declared as he ardently took my lips, consuming me in one go. Casting me under his love spell. Heck, it was scary how he knew his way back into my heart, but at the same time, my body rejoiced in his kiss. It reveled for him, blossoming under his touch. My heart may have two men in it, but there was no doubt who the champion was when it came to my body.
Bass solely owned it.
Admittedly, though, Bass was cruel after he found out about London, I could also understand and empathize with him because, if it were the other way around, I would have acted out, too. As he pointed out before, this could’ve been prevented if I had spoken about it in the first place. My first instincts when I got back were to tell him, but fear kept me from confessing the surprise I had in London. Oh, how that fear had backfired.
I had to admire his superbly crafted plan, making sure that I wasn’t able to decline him. He aimed directly towards the vulnerable part of me, bypassing the barriers I had erected. There’s a teeny part of my brain that told me that Bass was plain old wonky, but the majority thought it downright romantic. Bass took a knock in the head—though he referred to it as little, a punch was a punch—to try and get me back. The swooning-girly-me surfaced.
We were on our sides, hands holding each other’s faces, kissing like there was no tomorrow, when my hand gravitated south. Bass instantly caught me and placed my hand over his heart. After a minute, I attempted my hand on seduction, but Bass broke off the kiss before I reached the intended destination. “This isn’t about sex, Emma. I don’t want you to think otherwise.” His heart steadily beat against my palm, letting me feel his love without voicing it out. “I never touched another woman after you, in case you were wondering. The past weeks made me miss you so much. That’s why I just want to enjoy this time with you, kissing and talking without any sex.”
Now my lies were hindering my sex life. “I know it isn’t, Bass. I was lying when I said that, but just this once, can we just skip it?”
“Emma—” he warned, frowning at me.
Using both thumbs, I reached across his forehead and made his stop wrinkling. “Fine, but as long as you can compromise and let me touch your chest?” Smiling, I placed my head before his, our noses touching.
I could tell he loved it when I was all over him. “Alright,” he whispered before capturing my lips again.