How It's Said

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Anna’s POV

Eric rocked his hips into mine, his hands sliding down my side to cup my ass, pulling me harder into him. I moan into his mouth, my fingers clutching at his hair. Why did I try and make myself forget this? He tastes so good, the few kisses we’d shared before his accident don’t hold a candle to the amount of hunger and passion I feel right now. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted another man.

I want to let myself go, to do nothing but just feel. I want to touch and taste every inch of Eric, but at the same time, I know there’s something jacked up going on here. You don’t possibly like a girl, get in a coma, come out of said coma act like the girl means nothing more than dirt under your boots then kiss her and expect to get lucky. It doesn’t work like that.

I pull back from Eric, my hands going to where his rest on the curve of my ass. I move his hands off my ass, pushing them back into his own space.

“We need to talk, Eric.” I have to lean close so he can hear me over the loud music.

He presses a hungry kiss to the side of my neck before growling into my ear, “I know.”

“No, not that.” I moan when he sucks the skin just below my ear into his mouth. Once again I was drawn into Eric, into his world that he creates with a simple touch of a hand or kiss of the mouth. He makes me forget everything and everyone except for him. I live and breathe him, his world sucking me in until nothing but him exists. I want him so much. I don’t care about what is right anymore. I don’t care that he was in a coma and that he probably doesn’t remember shit about me. All I care about his him and me and what we can be together.

What the hell is wrong with me? This boy can drag me down and build me up in a few seconds. He can make me hate him so much I want to scream while at the same time love him with all my heart. As crazy as it is, I know I love him. I know that part of him, somewhere locked deep down in his mind, he loves me too. I know he does.

Pulling back, I stop myself from getting drawn into Eric allure. I slide my hands down his sides before grabbing one of his hands. Lacing our fingers together, I lead him off the dance floor. He follows me, keeping close because of the crowd. At one point he lets go of my hand and settles his own on my hips, his fingers brushing across my stomach.

I can’t help but shiver as his fingers rub against my lower stomach, his touch soft, the calluses on his fingers hard.

I let out an annoyed sigh as a large bridal party steps in front of us and start shrieking and dancing in place. Eric takes the opportunity to step even closer, sliding his thumbs into the belt loops of my jeans. His fingers dangle dangerously close to where I want him most. I think about removing his hands and making him back up, but it feels so good to have him close to me. Even in this sweaty night club, he smells amazing.

I know Eric and I have a lot to talk about. I want us to determine what’s going on between us, if there’s the possibility that there could be more or if all he’ll ever feel for me is lust.

After what feels like forever, we clear through the congested groups of club-goers who seem to believe that the world stops turning when they are there. Instead of me leading Eric away so we can talk, it becomes Eric leading me. I was expecting him to take me to a quiet (ish) table at the back, but no, we exit the club, Eric clicking the locks on his truck as we walk.