Merging Hearts (Smitten Hearts #1)

Chapter Thirty-two

Hazel

Rain Dacosta confuses me.

And no, I’m not talking about the everyday ‘ Does he like me or not? ’ confusion, I’m talking about a full blown ‘ is he a magician or is he just really good at making me question reality? ’ kind of confusion.

Sometimes he’s nice, sometimes he’s a jerk. I don’t know how he does it, but it’s too impressive—and annoying—how one moment he’s jealous and possessive, and the next he’s like ‘oh you exist? Great, but I’d rather be on Mars.’

I’m human. If he’s allowed to be possessive, looking manly and hot while doing it, then I’m certain my heart is allowed to flutter. Like tonight, when he whisked me away from the bar like a caveman claiming his prize.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything for him. Six months was supposed to go by fast so I can do something else with my life, but now it’s flying by too quickly.

As Rain drives us home, I can’t help but steal glances at him. I hate the way he is now, so tense and uncomfortable, grabbing the steering wheel as though his life depends on it. I hate that he’s always like that with me. What is he fighting whenever we’re together? He’s such a puzzle I can’t solve and it bothers me. I’m not always the curious type, but all he has ever done is make me wonder what it would be like if I got the nicer Rain Dacosta every day.

Following the instruction of the traffic light, Rain stops the car, our eyes meeting at the same time as if premeditated. My heart races from the way he looks at me, his stare blazing with fire that threatens to burn me from inside. His gaze has that intensity to it that makes my soul tremble. I swallow, knowing I’m still walking on eggshells until I know which Rain I’ll be getting.

Is it still the jealous one? The angry one? The flirty one? Or the unbothered one? I’ll take all but the unbothered one. I hate when he flat out ignores my existence.

The city lights blur and the sounds muffle, leaving me alone in the bubble I created for us. I almost thanked the universe for working in my favor, until the cars behind us honk, ushering us off the road.

We pull into the driveway, and I brace myself for another round of push-and-pull. As we step out of the car, Rain’s hand brushes against mine, sending a high voltage of electricity through my body, and I suck in my breath. I glance up, and our eyes lock in a silent discussion.

He leaves me in the driveway and walks faster into the house, but determined to not let him ignore me tonight, I run after him, catching up with him in the foyer.

Rain looks at the hand I grabbed to stop him, and then at me, but I look away, knowing that there isn’t a way for him to read me like an open book without eye contact.

“I wasn’t going to give him my number if he asked,” I answer his question from earlier. “And I wasn’t planning to sleep with him if that’s what you were insinuating with the vow. I’ve never had sex anyway, so your ego is safe.” He gives me no response, so I peer up a little to look at him, and his stare has me dropping his hand and explaining. “I mean … I thought … I know you’re worried your ego will be hurt if your wife cheats on you, aren’t you?” Please, stop stuttering . “And this doesn’t mean that I owe you an explanation. Because I don’t. It’s a ‘just so you know’ type of thing.” After I finish embarrassing myself, I take heavy strides toward my room, only to be hauled back by Rain.

The tension between us is so palpable, it can be cut with a knife and served on a plate. In less than ten seconds, Rain has me pinned to the wall, his hand on my hips, with fingers digging into my skin as he pulls me closer.

For a moment, I’m frozen, my body only inches apart from Rain, and the only sound being our ragged breaths. Kiss me, please . I almost beg out loud. I try to focus on something else other than the sleek bundle of muscle wrapped around me, but no matter how hard I try, my eyes catch even his swallows.

A throat has no concern being this sexy.

Rain is much more beautiful than I give him credit for. In fact, it’s almost illegal to be endowed with a face like his. It’s like his chiseled features are magnified up close from this angle, with his sharp as knife jawline angular cheekbones looking like they were structured by the gods themselves. His eyes are too deep and piercing as he peers at me through his thick, luscious eyelashes.

If I kiss him and blame it on the moment, it’s not my fault, right? I mean, he was the one who pulled me back.

“What do you mean you’ve never had sex before?” he whispers raggedly. I nod to confirm and his brows draw in confusion. “Why?”

“I didn’t—” I gasp when he bites the skin around my neck. “I didn’t want to do it with just anybody.”

His hands wrap around my waist and he widens my legs with his knee. Oh Santa Maria, is it happening already? His fingers trace my inner thighs and I try to close my legs, but I can’t because of the tight hold he has on them.

“So I’m the first person to do this?” He continues running soft circles on my thighs.

“Yes,” my voice comes out breathless.

“Really?”

“Y-yes. Rain, please .” I grab his shoulders impatiently, earning a chuckle, followed by a frown.

“Serious question first. Why were you letting him look at you?”

“Wh-what? Who?” my voice laces with heavy confusion as I ask.

“The guy in the club, Hazel. He licked his lips looking at your body. He was looking at my wife , and you entertained him.”

“I didn’t entertain him, I responded to his greetings like a normal person would. I can’t control what other people do—particularly how their eyes move. And I smell jealousy. Say this outside and someone might conclude you like me.”

“But you know better,” he mutters, his lips brushing mine with each word. “Don’t you?”

Do I? I don’t know anymore.

“And don’t get it twisted. I don’t have to like you to get angry when other men stare at you. You’re married to me . Not that guy from the club, and not Henri Leclair.”

Okay, now I’m lost. A puzzled expression crosses my face and I hold his eyes. “What has Henri—”

“Shhh—” his index finger drops on my lip. “Be quiet, and I’ll make you feel good,” he negotiates.

I know he’s doing it to deflect from the conversation, but still, I nod, accepting to sell my silence for the pleasure he has to offer.

Rain keeps his promise, touching me all over and feeling my body up and down like a blind man tracing the lines of a face. And soon, my mouth drops as the pleasure hits me as hard as a ton of bricks that I practically have to bury my face in his chest to stop myself from screaming.

It’s official; I’m not the same anymore after tonight.