Midnight Lips | Ghost

𝐂𝐇. 11

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐀
༻❁༺

I leaned closer to make sure the suture was okay, and also because that was an excuse to look at his body and tattoos up close. Right above his wound, I found a beautiful butterfly. Like the rest of his tattoo, it wasn't colored, but with the edges inked black, in my mind the butterfly was blue.

I realized it was alone, with a trail behind, either following it or just leaving a mark. The butterfly looked lost in its way to find something, somewhere, perhaps someone.

I didn't think twice. I traced my fingertip and followed the path that was left behind by the butterfly. Simon Riley sucked in a breath, his chest expanding and holding it right there. I trailed up and over the curve of his shoulder. Then down his bicep and all the way to his wrist.

Riley tensed. For a moment, I thought he wasn't going to show me the end of the path, but I was too curious to stop. Too curious to know where the butterfly was coming from. That hand on my hip loosened, and I was able to turn his wrist around.

I almost gasped. What I found wasn't what I expected. I was wrong. The butterfly wasn't lost and trying to find something. It was escaping from a tragedy, from its past. On the inside of his wrist, three butterflies were laying on what looked to be the ground. Their wings were torn apart. They hadn't survived whatever attacked them.

I looked into his eyes. Uncertainty washed over me. What did this mean? Was it something about him, his past? Maybe it didn't mean anything. Maybe I was overthinking. A lot of people had tattoos with no meaning. I had one, over my hipbone (two cherries joined at the top by the stem) that I got because I was bored and had just turned 18.

Riley's hands moved from my hips. I didn't know if it was part of my imagination or if he read my mind, because his thumb grazed slightly over the tattoo that was hidden beneath my shorts. I forgot all about the butterflies.

I looked into Riley's eyes. They were burning exactly like my body, asking for permission to move lower and touch bare flesh. He and I let them travel down to my thighs, his touch was the last spark that lit me up completely, body and mind.

We were so damned.

His skin was growing warmer. I took the freedom to explore his chest with my hands. His body was strong and soft. His pecs, biceps, and abs curves felt so good under my hands. I pressed my palm right against his chest, felt the spark up my arm that didn't seem to stop traveling between our bodies, and noticed he was breathing as heavily as I was, his heart beating as fast as mine.

I bit my lip. Shit, this man was hot—like, extremely hot. And with that mask? I mean, did Simon Riley just awaken a mask kink in me? Watching his eyes under that mask, burning with unexpected lust, not knowing what his expressions are but imagining them felt too good to be true.

I hesitated to move closer, but he helped me by pressing me against his body. We could both say that this position was for easy access to his wound only, but we both knew that was bullshit. An excuse for this sin, which was what we both wanted to commit.

His eyes dropped to watch my lip between my teeth. What was air? One of his hands left my skin. I felt those fingers on my chin, the tip of his thumb taking my bottom lip out from between my teeth. My lips parted for air, yet nothing flew in.

He traced the edge of my wound, and just then I realized I had three stitches on the edge of my mouth.

"What I meant before..." Riley began, and my heart beat faster. He took a loud breath before opening his mouth again. "I can't stop thinking about these damn lips ever since you sucked that blood from your finger."