“I got to know you, Gemma.” His eyes burn with intensity.
“Maybe you just like that I don’t expect anything from you.”
“Bullshit,” he fires back. “There isn’t a world where you’re in someone’s life and don’t become the center of it.”
I turn my head, but he captures my chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“Don’t do that. Don’t push me away. Don’t hide—not from me.” He pauses briefly. “Let meseeyou, Gemma.”
“What if you don’t like what you see?” I whisper.
He releases a breath. “That’s not possible.”
“I’m not good at this part,” I confess, feeling my heart crack open as I allow myself to say the words.
“You don’t have to be,” he says quietly. “You don’t have to perform, or prove, or pretend with me.” His fingers move to thread through my hair. “I just want to see you—messy, scared, brilliant you.” He pauses. “I want all of it.”
How does he know? How can hesee?
My face crinkles with confusion. “What if you can’t give me what I need?”
“I know I can.”
“How do you know?”
Delicately, he brushes a loose lock behind my ear. “Because I think you want to see me too.”
My body wants to revert back to what it knows is safe and comfortable—what I can control. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”
A brisk laugh leaves him. “I don’t care anymore.”
“It’s just sex.” The lie barely holds together as it slips from my mouth.
“It’s not. It’s not, and you know it.”
Of course I know it. Lava explodes in my veins, sending my heartbeat soaring. My mind tries to weave together all the reasons this is wrong. All the reasons it can’t work. All the reasons we shouldn’t.
“But Anna—” I press.
He drops his forehead to mine. “We’ll figure it out. She’ll hate this, at the beginning. But I can’t pretend I don’t want you.”
My shoulders slump in defeat. “It won’t—”
My words are cut off when he slams his mouth against mine, capturing my gasp. My tote bag slides off my shoulder, dropping to the floor with a thud. All excuses fade to smoke the moment his mouth seals over mine. My body recognizes him as its master before my mind can catch up and I melt against him. The kiss is frantic and full of need, and I find myself surrendering to the heady rush.
“Gemma,” he groans against my mouth, and my knees threaten to buckle.
I whimper as his strong hands twist in my hair, tugging my head back with a slight sting so he can deepen the kiss.
Our tongues dance and his breath becomes mine as I pull him closer by his perfectly pressed suit.
He walks me backward until I feel the cool surface of the island against my skirt. He lifts me like I weigh nothing and sets me on the edge, reaching beneath my skirt and dragging my wet knickers down my legs.
“You’re already wet,” he groans, dragging his fingers through the mess he’s made of me. “Fucking dripping. All for me.”
“I need you,” I beg, practically shaking.
And I do. I need him. He’s the only man who’s been able to meet me halfway, offering everything my body craves. He touches me in a way other men are afraid to, in a way that sends liquid fire skittering through me.
