Chapter 17 An Impossible Task
Aiyana's P.O.V
I told myself distance was safety, that staying away from him would dampen whatsoever it was that I was starting to feel for him. A task that seemed impossible
After his confession, I tried harder, painfully harder to keep space between us. If he came into the room, I found a reason to leave. If he looked at me too long, I looked anywhere else.
My voice became careful, short, polite.
My steps, practiced in avoidance.
The weight of what he felt pressed at me like warm breath against skin, present even when he wasn’t touching me, and I couldn’t afford to melt, because I knew if I melted, I would drown.
I thought he didn’t notice, actually hoped he didn’t, but Jerome Black was a man who noticed everything, especially me and avoiding him only made his silence heavier.
That morning it was worse. I ate breakfast alone or rather, tried to. I could feel guards watching through every hallway I passed.
Could feel the tension that clung to the house like a warning.
Something about the air felt different, like the atmosphere knew something I didn’t.
I was halfway through the hall when I heard footsteps behind me. Smooth, confident, unhurried. A presence that made the back of my neck prickle.
I didn’t have to turn to know it was him.
I froze.
He stopped.
Slowly, he turned toward me, eyes darker than I remembered, focused, unreadable in the way that meant danger if you dared get close.
“You’re avoiding me.” He stated.
Not a question. A verdict.
“I need some space.” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady but I was failing at it.
I didn't know what it was that stung with me.
Why exactly I was running away
Why his feelings scared me even far worse than his kidnapping.
What that meant for me and him.
His jaw flexed. “From me?”
I swallowed. “From… everything.” I said, not wanting to affirm or deny that he was the sole reason even though I knew that he knew
He held my stare, like he was searching for the truth behind the lie I didn’t fully understand myself.
Before he could speak again, like salvation or destruction, Gerald appeared from nowhere like a gust of chaotic wind.
“Well, well, well.” He drawled, hands in pockets, grin wide and unhelpfully bright.
“Look at the lovebirds pretending they’re not in a silent war of longing.” age teased as sual, and honestly, I was starting to see why Jerome always told him to get out.
He was chirpy but severely annoying.
I felt heat crawl up my neck.
“Ai-ya-na,” he said playfully, stretching my name like it tasted sweet. “Blink twice if you need rescuing from Captain Brooding Intensity over here.” He said, walking up to me in funny steps, and as he was about to place his hands on my shoulders, he gently takes them away after the glare from Jerome.
I didn't think he listens, that's new
“I don’t…” I started but he cut me off
“She’s fine.” Jerome snapped, voice sharp enough to cut steel.
“Oh, yes, she looks fine,” Gerald teased. “Like a woman who hasn’t slept in three days because the big scary man confessed he wants to ravish her soul.” He said and I immediately felt deep embarrassment, coupled with anger at the fact that Jerome would tell him something so personal, especially this fast.
However, the murderous look on his face said otherwise, was he psychic then?
My eyes widened. “Gerald!”
“You’re both idiots, by the way. She’s running, he’s simmering. At this rate you’ll either kiss or kill each other.” He said and walked off before either of us could respond.
As soon as he left, silence dropped like heavy fog.
Thick and inescapable.
Jerome’s gaze returned to me, sharper now, wounded and wanting all at once.
“Aiyana.”
My name again. A pull against my ribcage.
“You don’t have to run from me.”
“I’m not running.” I whispered.
“You are.” He responded, stepping closer, just one step, but it felt like a cliff edge breaking beneath my feet.
I should’ve backed away, but I didn’t.
His voice was lower now, almost pained.
“Tell me you don’t want me. Look me in the eyes and say it, Aiyana and I will stop.”
My heart punched against my ribs like it wanted to escape.
I opened my mouth. I meant to lie, but all that came out was a fragile and shaky breath.
Even my soul knew that I wanted him to touch me, to you h him but it was guilty pleasure that I could not dare engage in.
It would swallow me whole.
Jerome Black is the leader of a mafia gang. I may not be a part of them but I knew enough to know about their promiscuity.
He's dangerous and handsome, of course women want him and he them, probably.
Was I really willing to let it go on a probability of my belief that he just wanted me as one if the trophies he conquered? If I was worth that, not really.
“I… I don’t know what I want.” I whispered, more to myself than to him but before I could take it back or do anything else, his eyes darkened like something inside him was pulling tight like chains snapping under strain.
I should’ve left. Should’ve walked past him.
Instead, my feet betrayed me by staying exactly where they were.
His hand lifted, slow enough for me to move away if I chose, but I didn’t move.
His fingers brushed my jaw, feather light, breathtaking and the restraint in his touch was more dangerous than any force could’ve been.
“Aiyana.” He whispered, like prayer, like surrender, like hunger barely leashed and before my brain could catch up, the space between us evaporated and his mouth met mine.
A peck at first, one that although so gentle and warm lit a fire inside me.
A fire that I could also see in him and before I could blink, he lips were back on mine
This time, not gentle.
Not hesitant.
A kiss like a storm finally unleashed after holding itself back too long.
His hand slid to my waist, pulling me into him as if the world had narrowed to only two breaths, mine and his tangled like flame and oxygen.
I should’ve pushed him away, but my fingers curled in his shirt instead, like instinct, like need, like drowning and wanting the water.
He kissed me deeper, but it didn't feel like claiming, but pleading.
Not taking, but devouring like he’d starved for years and I was air.
Every part of me lit up with fear, desire, shock, want. All swallowing one another until I no longer knew which was which.
He broke away only long enough to breathe against my lips.
“I told you…” His voice was ragged. “If you let me taste you, I wouldn’t stop.” He said as he leaned in and kissed me again, har
der like losing control was an apology he couldn’t take back.
My heart was a wildfire, and for once, I didn’t try to put it out.