Madness or Love (Be With Me Book 1) by Selina Bodur Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Selina Bodur
emotion, with the exception of his
eyes. The blue was on fire, melting, burning her like a scorching sun. His eyes
were the only part of him that had surrendered to the passion and the
temptation, the only feature that had lost control. Both stood there, frozen in
time, momentarily consumed by the new sensations.
Victoria willed him to kiss her, craved for his touch,
but he just held her in his strong arms and pressed her closer. She couldn’t
move, nor did she want to be away. His eyes were promising the world, but his
lips never touched hers. She saw the shift in his gaze; his better judgment
took over and killed the spark that had ignited the mind-consuming passion. She
couldn’t look away, searching for a grain of truth, a piece of lightning bolt,
but they were gone. He held her like she was a fragile desert flower and his
hands were undeniably the safest place on the planet. And she knew he would do
anything to protect her, even if he had to protect her from himself.
Ian took her head with both hands, and for a second,
she hoped he would surrender to the moment. He studied her face seriously—the
parted lips, the heat on her cheeks, the widened eyes. It took all of his self-control
not to kiss her. It would have been the easiest thing to do, to make love to
her, to claim her full lips, to sink into her warmth. The woman in his arms was
already his, but she deserved better than someone who would leave her in the
morning. She was the most important person in his life outside of his family.
He knew he would never forgive himself if he ever hurt her.
So, he ignored the throbbing of his body and spoke in
her ear. “Time to get you home. You’ve had too many of those funny cocktails.”
He tried to keep his voice calm and forced a smile.
But Victoria wasn’t ready to give up and let go of
him. “No,” she whispered back breathlessly.
Ian could barely hear her soft words, but the
determination in her eyes spoke volumes.
“You are gonna dance with me.” She pulled him closer,
and their cheeks touched. His lips brushed her earlobe, and he breathed in her
scent—wild flowers and summer rain. He allowed himself a fraction of happiness
where they could forget tomorrow and just be.
The band was playing a song about two friends in love:
We can stop at the coffee shop
And make fun of the cops in the parking lot.
We can laugh as we both pretend
That we’re not in love and we’re just good friends.
“Ironic,” Victoria whispered. The words of the song
swirled around, and for a moment, she felt vulnerable and over-exposed. Ian
held her lean body tighter, but a lump was stuck in his throat. His mind fought
his body and the longing in his heart, but with every passing second, his
self-control slipped by. The muscles of his hardened body ached for her. But
although he knew she had all the power to heal and ease the pain in his soul
and groin, he pulled back.
“Home, now!” Ian didn’t wait for an answer but grabbed
her hand and basically dragged her out of the venue. The streets were empty and
deserted, but he got lucky and saw the headlights of a taxi. He expertly waved
a hand, and the car stopped.
“Get in,” he ordered. His ice-cold tone made her
shiver. She sagged in the back seat, defeated by his serious look. He gave the
driver the address, and they drove in silence for a while. Her emotions were
all over the place, and the last thing she needed right now was to cry like
some stupid, insecure school girl. God knew she felt like one, though.
“You are a buzzkill,” she mumbled, trying to hide
behind the poor joke.
“You’re drunk, and I’m taking you home.” Ian’s voice
came out flat with a hidden strain in it.
The words hurt more than they should. “If that’s what
you choose to believe . . .”
He sharply looked at her, and his features softened when
he saw her pale face and the crystal drops in the corners of her eyes. “I’m
sorry, V.” He touched her cheek. “Are you
eyes. The blue was on fire, melting, burning her like a scorching sun. His eyes
were the only part of him that had surrendered to the passion and the
temptation, the only feature that had lost control. Both stood there, frozen in
time, momentarily consumed by the new sensations.
Victoria willed him to kiss her, craved for his touch,
but he just held her in his strong arms and pressed her closer. She couldn’t
move, nor did she want to be away. His eyes were promising the world, but his
lips never touched hers. She saw the shift in his gaze; his better judgment
took over and killed the spark that had ignited the mind-consuming passion. She
couldn’t look away, searching for a grain of truth, a piece of lightning bolt,
but they were gone. He held her like she was a fragile desert flower and his
hands were undeniably the safest place on the planet. And she knew he would do
anything to protect her, even if he had to protect her from himself.
Ian took her head with both hands, and for a second,
she hoped he would surrender to the moment. He studied her face seriously—the
parted lips, the heat on her cheeks, the widened eyes. It took all of his self-control
not to kiss her. It would have been the easiest thing to do, to make love to
her, to claim her full lips, to sink into her warmth. The woman in his arms was
already his, but she deserved better than someone who would leave her in the
morning. She was the most important person in his life outside of his family.
He knew he would never forgive himself if he ever hurt her.
So, he ignored the throbbing of his body and spoke in
her ear. “Time to get you home. You’ve had too many of those funny cocktails.”
He tried to keep his voice calm and forced a smile.
But Victoria wasn’t ready to give up and let go of
him. “No,” she whispered back breathlessly.
Ian could barely hear her soft words, but the
determination in her eyes spoke volumes.
“You are gonna dance with me.” She pulled him closer,
and their cheeks touched. His lips brushed her earlobe, and he breathed in her
scent—wild flowers and summer rain. He allowed himself a fraction of happiness
where they could forget tomorrow and just be.
The band was playing a song about two friends in love:
We can stop at the coffee shop
And make fun of the cops in the parking lot.
We can laugh as we both pretend
That we’re not in love and we’re just good friends.
“Ironic,” Victoria whispered. The words of the song
swirled around, and for a moment, she felt vulnerable and over-exposed. Ian
held her lean body tighter, but a lump was stuck in his throat. His mind fought
his body and the longing in his heart, but with every passing second, his
self-control slipped by. The muscles of his hardened body ached for her. But
although he knew she had all the power to heal and ease the pain in his soul
and groin, he pulled back.
“Home, now!” Ian didn’t wait for an answer but grabbed
her hand and basically dragged her out of the venue. The streets were empty and
deserted, but he got lucky and saw the headlights of a taxi. He expertly waved
a hand, and the car stopped.
“Get in,” he ordered. His ice-cold tone made her
shiver. She sagged in the back seat, defeated by his serious look. He gave the
driver the address, and they drove in silence for a while. Her emotions were
all over the place, and the last thing she needed right now was to cry like
some stupid, insecure school girl. God knew she felt like one, though.
“You are a buzzkill,” she mumbled, trying to hide
behind the poor joke.
“You’re drunk, and I’m taking you home.” Ian’s voice
came out flat with a hidden strain in it.
The words hurt more than they should. “If that’s what
you choose to believe . . .”
He sharply looked at her, and his features softened when
he saw her pale face and the crystal drops in the corners of her eyes. “I’m
sorry, V.” He touched her cheek. “Are you