Desperate to Touch

I ran from him, even though my heart knew better. Love was one thing, but survival another. He chose a life of crime. I never wanted any of it; I only wanted him. I left when the danger bled into my life, taking more than I was willing to sacrifice. I should have known he'd come for me. Men like him always get what they want. The temptation in his eyes, the heat of his touch . . . it's all still there, but his gaze is harsher now and his grasp unrelenting. He's not the boy I fell in love with, although pieces of what we once had are still there. I can feel it. I know what he wants from me,…