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Back The Wishing Game
Chapters (66)
  1. PREFACE
  2. Full Page Image
  3. ONE
  4. TWO
  5. One week ago
  6. THREE
  7. Present day
  8. FOUR
  9. FIVE
  10. SIX
  11. SEVEN
  12. EIGHT
  13. NINE
  14. TEN
  15. ELEVEN
  16. TWELVE
  17. THIRTEEN
  18. FOURTEEN
  19. FIFTEEN
  20. SIXTEEN
  21. SEVENTEEN
  22. EIGHTEEN
  23. NINETEEN
  24. TWENTY
  25. TWENTY-ONE
  26. TWENTY-TWO
  27. TWENTY-THREE
  28. TWENTY-FOUR
  29. TWENTY-FIVE
  30. TWENTY-SIX
  31. TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. TWENTY-NINE
  34. THIRTY
  35. THIRTY-ONE
  36. THIRTY-TWO
  37. THIRTY-THREE
  38. THIRTY-FOUR
  39. THIRTY-FIVE
  40. THIRTY-SIX
  41. THIRTY-SEVEN
  42. THIRTY-EIGHT
  43. THIRTY-NINE
  44. FORTY
  45. FORTY-ONE
  46. FORTY-TWO
  47. FORTY-THREE
  48. FORTY-FOUR
  49. FORTY-FIVE
  50. FORTY-SIX
  51. FORTY-SEVEN
  52. FORTY-EIGHT
  53. FORTY-NINE
  54. FIFTY
  55. FIFTY-ONE
  56. FIFTY-TWO
  57. FIFTY-THREE
  58. FIFTY-FOUR
  59. FIFTY-FIVE
  60. FIFTY-SIX
  61. FIFTY-SEVEN
  62. FIFTY-EIGHT
  63. FIFTY-NINE
  64. SIXTY
  65. SIXTY-ONE
  66. SIXTY-TWO

I open my mouth to speak, but no word comes out. The beat of my heart echoes in my ears, the sound almost deafening. I stare into his eyes, willing myself to reply—tell him this isn't what I meant. That we're friends and we cannot be more—we can never be more. The words that would have come so easily before are now lodged in my throat, including the most important one. I'm married. I may be a widow, but I'm still married.

Tears stab at my eyes as panic overtakes me. Not at his actions, or the position we find ourselves in, but at my reaction. I should not be reacting at all. I should look at him and not see him. Yet the more I stare into those purple eyes that have come to mean so much to me, I find myself utterly speechless.

"I might be immune to all poisons in the universe. But it appears there is one thing I am not immune to," he murmurs softly. "You."

"Are you calling me a poison?" I clear my throat as I attempt a joke, yet my question comes out throaty, inviting...

"Oh, you are the most potent poison of all. And I have yet to taste you." He leans forward, his lips a razor's edge away from mine.

I blink rapidly, the moment stretching across an infinity as my being splits into two—the one before him, and the one after. Indecision cuts at me.

His breath is intoxicating, more so than any alcohol. It washes over me, imbuing me with an exhilarating but ineffable emotion. I lick my lips, still undecided about the course of my actions, for I know that if I take this step, nothing will ever be the same. I will damn myself in a way I would have never fathomed. And yet, I'm tempted.

God forgive me, but I'm tempted.

Even as my husband's visage flashes before my eyes, I waver.

His lips continue their descent toward me, and at the last moment, I half turn. His lips skim the corner of my mouth, brushing against my cheek. The breath leaves my lungs. My hands grip his arms, my nails digging into his flesh. A small whimper escapes me, of rebuttal or encouragement, I don't know.

He takes no notice of the turmoil inside of me. His lips trace a soft line down my neck.

A shiver goes down my back.

I should pull back. Stop this madness.

But I don't. Even as the rip of material reverberates in the room, and even as I feel him kiss his way down my chest. I just hold on to him, drawing blood with my nails from the tension that builds deep inside of me.