Belladonna (Billionaire Boys Club #1)

Chapter 45

We take a few more steps and when I think I might explode from the heat of his gaze on me, he speaks. Low and serious.

"Do you want me to kiss it better?"

His question echoes in my head, ricocheting off of my brain and colliding with the memory of us in my bedroom.

Me against the wall. Hands in his hair and his roaming over my body. Lips hotter than fire and invisibly marking my skin.

He's remembering too. I know he is.

I haven't realised that my pace has halted until his thumb strokes over mine and I snap my face to his.

He stares right back. Unflinching and focused. His dark green eyes, much like a forest blackened by the night, are alight by the sconces. Now appearing like the woods in the mornings. Sunshine beaming down through the canopies and restoring life back into the landscape. And that is what they are now. His eyes.

Alive.

My lips part and a shuddering breath leaves me but just as he goes to take a step closer, the door opens.

Whirling around, I see Rose in the entryway, mouth in an "o" shape, surprised to see me with someone else, probably.

That, or the fact that we are holding hands and are inches apart.

I take the opportunity to bolt. Rushing into the house and slamming the door shut. I lean against it and breathe hard, trying to get my heart rate under control.

Rose looks at me like I've gone crazy and I give her a stern look. "You saw nothing."

She nods frantically and I do so in recognition before dashing up the stairs to my room.

I enter my closet and immediately go to the small monitor that sits on the far wall. Switching it on and clicking onto the camera that shows the front door and some distance in front of it.

He is still standing there. Given it's been about a minute or two since I ran from him, I expected him to be gone.

He has a strange expression on his face. Like he doesn't know what just happened but wants to laugh at the same time.

It starts to rain but he doesn't move. All he does is pocket his hands and switch from staring at the ground, to the door and then upwards.

I step back. It's not like he can see me but I can't chance looking at those eyes again.

I might just sprint back outside and jump on him, refusing to let go.

Does that make me sound crazy?

I slowly walk forward and take another peek at the screen to see if he's still there.

He is. And oh my god.

The rain is still coming down, soaking his clothes and running down his skin. His hair looks impossibly dark as some strands stick to his forehead and water droplets cling to his eyelashes.

He removes a hand from his pocket, producing his phone and I assume, checks the time.

The rings on his fingers glint and, as always, my eyes find my own ring sat comfortably on his pinky finger.

Is it bad that I don't care about it anymore?

I mean, I do. But in the sense that I don't care that it's with him.

My thoughts are getting way ahead of me now.

I decide to shower and get ready for bed, accepting the small meal that a maid brings to my door on a tray and set it onto my side table before giving in to my temptations and folding back the curtains to see if he is in his room or not.

I kick myself at the pang of disappointment I feel when I see that it's dark but just as I go to walk away, light floods the windows of his room.

I'm still surprised at how close our sides of the houses are but definitely cannot complain when he comes into view because dio mio.

It looks like he's had a shower too. He has on pants, sadly, but he is towel drying his hair with one hand and setting down a bottle of something with the other.

My eyes travel down to his torso. His naked torso. And I feel those pesky butterflies again. Only this time, they also fly a little lower.

I can't see them from this far but I can imagine little water droplets rolling down his flawless skin. Over those perfect abs that are visible from even where I am and travelling down towards his v-line...

Oh my god, I sound like a pervert.

He throws the towel down and pushes his hair back, only for half of it to move back.

He doesn't move after that. Just stands there staring into space. Which is why, when he turns his head in my direction, I startle back and almost end up on the floor.

I let out a huff and against my higher will, move away from the windows.

I brush my teeth and complete my skincare. All thoughts of Lucas trying to break into my forward line of thoughts. I try my best to ignore them but they just keep on coming.

How can a single person occupy your mind for so long?

It gets to me sliding into my covers and settling into bed that those thoughts start to disappear. The only difference, now they turn into dreams.