#Chapter57
His lips were like velvet, and as he pulled away, it was as though all the warmth from my body went along with him.
Holding the heat of a thousand suns in his gaze, there was no regret or any inkling of apology in his expression. Boldly, unflinching, he awaited my reaction calmly.
Except it didn't come.
As though they had been set upon a bed of ice, my thoughts had numbed, short-circuiting reason and bypassing emotion. Lost in their own ice-bath retreat, all I could do was blink at him. And again. And again.
Like this shit was some bipity-bobity-open-your-eyes-and-all-this-shit-will-disappear kind of gig. Except it didn't. The owl impression went on and on, yet it didn't erase the way my lips still burnt from beneath the force of his, nor did counter the way the coldness of the world seemed to have quickly taken up a feud with me, inching its way inside me like fibreglass blade.