I watch him jigging around impatiently, trying to get out what’s bothering him and clearly frustrated at being stopped by Denham. “Arianna, I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t think. But D, I’ve been trying to call you…what happened to you guys anyway?” The urgency in his features is momentarily replaced by confusion as he takes in our dripping wet state.
Denham casts a look over his shoulder toward me and a cute grin breaks the hard lines that were set along his face. He turns back to Spike and speaks through gritted teeth. “I told you, I didn’t want to be called. I don’t want to know unless the place is burning down and I don’t see a fucking fire.”
Spike runs a hand through his unruly dark hair. “It’s important. Gimme a couple of minutes?”
Denham looks back to me and I give him a gentle nod before he grips Spike’s elbow and takes him to one side. I can’t hear what they are saying, but Spikes face is deadly serious. Denham’s shirt is stuck tight to him, the water making it hold onto every curve of every muscle in his back. A flush creeps across my chest and up my neck at the mere sight of him. I sigh in appreciation, and any awkwardness I was feeling about standing here in dripping wet clothes dissolves when I look at his fine form.
I see Spike nod at something Denham says and he glances over at me, giving me a tight smile before jogging off in the opposite direction to us.
Denham walks back to me, taking my hand and threading his fingers through mine as he leads me into the elevator. His face is a mask of unease, and the tension is radiating off him in waves.
“Is everything okay?” I ask cautiously. I know it’s a stupid question. If everything were okay he wouldn’t be giving off such an uneasy feeling.
He punches in the code and the elevator starts to move. After a few very tense minutes, he takes a deep breath before turning to me. “Arianna, you said you trusted me. Do you?”
I nod. “Yes,” I say with as much sincerity as I possibly can.
He walks me backwards, pinning me to the mirrored wall of the elevator. One hand holds me in place by my hip as the other tucks a stray hair behind my ear. I shudder as his fingertip traces my lobe and the air is sucked from this small space. His dark eyes are locked on mine and I watch as his lips part and he draws a ragged breath.
I thought I knew the rhythm of my heartbeat. The only reason it has ever wavered from the continual steady pulse is to accelerate through fear, driving adrenaline around my body to pull me through. No one has ever made my heart race with passion.
Until now.
Now it’s beating faster, making my head spin with sensation and my body react with desire.
Denham slides his hand across the wall and turns the key, halting the elevator with a jolt which makes me gasp.
I don’t care that there may be people waiting for the elevator that will have to take the stairs.
I don’t care that the world could be falling down around us.
I don’t care that this might be the man that takes down every carefully constructed brick that has been my heart’s shield for as long as I can remember.
Because Ifeelit. Not just physically. The emotional connection of two lost souls finding one another. I feel every part of the man who might just be the one to save me from my self-imposed emotional isolation.
Denham’s lips skim my neck, nipping at my throat and causing soft moans to escape from my body. He lifts me up until I’m resting on the handrail. My hips are level with his and I wrap my legs around him, pulling him in to me as close as I can, but it’s not close enough. There are too many clothes between us. I want him.
Skin on skin.
My fingers work to undo his belt but his hand halts me. He rests his forehead against mine, his breaths ragged and uneven. “Not yet, Arianna, and not here,” he says regretfully, kissing my cheek. “Not the first time. After that, definitely here.”
I groan, knowing he’s right, knowing I got caught up in the moment, but also knowing that I want this more than anything. I just need to convince him that my head is in the same space as his.
He starts the elevator again and we ascend to our floor. He looks visibly more relaxed now, but I’m worried about what had him so agitated. I’m not going to pry, though. If he wants to share, he will. He walks us to my door and opens it to let me in, and I watch as he scans the apartment, walking to the balcony doors and then to the bedroom.
“Denham, what are you doing?”
“Just checking.”
“Checking for what?” I laugh, but the thought that he has to check my room makes me nervous.
“It’s my job to make sure you’re safe.” He walks back to me and pulls me toward him.
“Is there likely to be anyone hiding in here?” Now I’m starting to panic.
“Relax, Arianna. I just wanted to make sure that room service wasn’t here making your bed or cleaning the bathroom.”
“Oh, okay,” I say, confused and not in the least bit convinced about his answer.
