He laughs, but I can feel the tension between us. I didn’t leave things good between us at the office earlier, and it shows. I let Sherry get to me, but I think that it was simply the straw that broke the camel’s back.
I’m wound so tight I feel like a spring about to snap. My nerves are acid under my skin, eating at everything I’ve been trying to hold together. I need to tell him what’s going on. I’m just not ready to watch his face change when I do.
He closes the distance between us with that slow stride of his—coat still on, hands sliding from his pockets like a man about to make a deal. “Lizzy,” he says, voice low enough to vibrate against my chest. “How are you?”
“I’m… okay.” It’s a flimsy lie, and we both know it.
His brows knit, jaw flexing. “Don’t do that,” he says quietly. “Don’t hide from me. You’ve been dodging me all week. I saw you at the office—eyes down, hands shaking. What’s going on? Did I do something?”
He doesn’t plead. He doesn’t even raise his voice. He just stands there, radiating heat and patience like a man who doesn’t lose control unless he chooses to. It makes the air feel heavy, like it’s pressing me into the floor.
“Of course not,” I manage. “It’s… complicated.”
“Then help me understand.” He moves another step closer, close enough that I can smell the spice of his cologne over the cold air.“If you’re done with this, say it. Don’t drag me through the mud. Because I do want this. I want you. And I’m not in the habit of being strung along.”
The way he says it—unhurried, matter-of-fact—slides under my ribs and lodges there. It’s not a confession; it’s a warning, the sound of a man who always gets what he wants.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My pulse thuds against my throat. He’s staring at me like he can read every secret I’ve tried to bury.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I cross the space between us and grab his collar, dragging his mouth down to mine. His arms go around me instantly, hard and sure, hauling me off my feet like I weigh nothing. The kiss isn’t gentle. It’s heat and teeth and a low sound in his throat that makes my knees weak.
I’m no good with words, but my body knows how to speak. And right now, it’s telling him everything.
He breaks the kiss just enough to murmur against my lips, “You’re hiding something, Lizzy.” His hands tighten at my waist, not painful, but firm enough that my breath catches. “And I’m going to find out what it is.”
17
JONATHAN
When I walked through her door, I saw it instantly. The glassy brightness in her eyes, the little tremor in her hands before she touched me.
Something’s eating her alive, and she’s using me to quiet it. I’m not angry. Hell, I’ll take any excuse to have her near me. But I don’t like puzzles I can’t solve, and Lizzy is starting to feel like a locked safe I’m itching to crack.
Her lips are still on mine, hot and frantic, when I ease her back onto the couch and push her hair off her face with my thumb. Her pulse beats hard under her skin.
“Lizzy,” I murmur, low enough to vibrate against her throat. “Are you sure there isn’t something you want to tell me?”
Her lashes flutter; she looks at me, wide-eyed, caught. “The only thing I want to say right now,” she whispers, “is that you’re not alone with what you’re feeling. I want this too. I want you.”
Her voice is soft but steady, like a confession pressed between our mouths. I believe her. I also know there’s more buried under that velvet tone.
My hand slides down to her hip, holding her there. “Good,” I say, and lean in until our noses brush. “Because I’m not done with you.”
She exhales a shaky breath, pupils blown wide. And in her eyes, under the desire, the secret is still there, waiting for me to dig it out.
I kiss her again—harder, slower—and think, one way or another, I’ll have the truth out of her.
The kiss starts gently, but as her hands run up the back of my hair and her breathing deepens, she awakens that side of me that craves her every touch and taste. The same one that I can’t seem to control when she is near me.
The one that needs her…
She grips my shirt and shoves me backward onto the couch. As I fall onto the bouncy cushion, she climbs on top of me, her legs straddling either side of mine while her hands grip the back of the couch.
Her pencil skirt has since slid up to her hips, leaving my pants and her underwear as the only things in the way of full contact. Her lips quickly move from mine down to my neck, and I rest my head on the back of the couch as she nibbles on my sensitive skin.
I don’t know what it is about her, but one touch from her, even a kiss, and I am putty in her hands. To my surprise, I don’t mind one bit.
Lizzy lifts her head and puts her hands on my chest, over my shirt, before running them down to my belt buckle and undoing it. She unfastens my dress pants button and rises off of me, allowing me to slide down my pants and boxers to fall around my ankles.
