Two Can Play (Celeste and Dominic) novel Chapter 213

Chapter 213

The moment her palms touched my skin, the fire inside me exploded. The weakness that had been weighing me down vanished, replaced by a surge of energy so intense it made me gasp. My hands moved on their own, reaching for her, pulling her close, and I crashed my lips against hers.

The kiss was desperate, hungry, consuming. She climbed onto me and I fell back on the bed, her thighs bracketing my waist, her arms looping around my neck, and I kissed her like I was drowning and stre was air.

But something was wrong.

Her lips did not taste like Celeste’s lips. They were close, almost right, but there was a difference I could not ignore. Celeste tasted like mornings and coffee and the faint sweetness of her lip balm. This woman tasted like nothing. Like a lie.

I pushed her off me.

She landed on the floor with a shriek, her hair falling across her face. She looked up at me with wide eyes, shocked, hurt, confused.

I did not wait to see what she would do next. I scrambled off the bed, my legs unsteady, my vision swimming, and I stumbled toward the bathroom. I made it inside and slammed the door.

I turned on the shower.

Cold water.

I stepped under it fully clothed, my shirt soaking through, the water plastering my hair to my scalp and running down my face in rivulets. I stood there with my eyes closed, my hands pressed against the tiled wall, my breath coming in short sharp bursts. The cold helped. It dulled the fire, made it bearable, gave me something to hold onto.

I filled my mind with memories. The night before. The confession. The way Celeste had looked at me when I told her I loved her. The way she had whispered my name. I held onto those memories like they were a lifeline, pulling myself back from the edge, fighting the drug that was still burning through my veins.

But the dosage must have been too high.

My legs began to wobble. My arms trembled. The cold water was not enough anymore, the heat building again, pressing against my skin from the inside. I tried to support myself against the wall but even my hands had gone weak. The world spun around me, the tiles blurring, the light dimming at the edges of my vision.

And then I felt a presence.

The shower turned off. The cold water stopped. I stood there, dripping, my clothes clinging to my body, and I turned my head slowly.

She was there.

Imelda stood right in front of me. She stepped forward, her feet silent on the tiles. She reached up and framed my face with her hands, just as she had before, and she rose onto her tiptoes.

She kissed me.

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