I lock the door of my bedroom behind me and step straight into my shower. I turn on the water and set it to freezing. It hurts against my oversensitive skin.
The skin shejust touched.
I don’t touch women who don’t want me to. And despite Paige’s taunting, she doesn’t want me to touch her. I know that. She knows that, too, but she’s putting on a brave face. Neither of us asked to be in this position. Sylvie put us in it.
But she taunted me, and I tried anyway, but then she fuckingmoanedinto the bench. It was like a signal to my already overheated body and I felt my cock finally harden. I kept it at bay the entire time she was touching me, but after we reversed positions, touching her soft skin, seeing the expanse of her body and then hearing thatsound…
The water isn’t helping.
I shift it to warm and reach down to grip myself. I hate that she makes me want her like this. I hate herand the chaos she’s wrought in my life. When was the last time I had to jerk off in the middle of the goddamned day?
I don’t lose control. But here I am, spinning so far outside the rules I’ve set for myself. I grip myself tighter than is comfortable, a fitting punishment for this disaster, and start stroking. She shouldn’t turn me on like that. I’m stronger than this—a pretty woman never throws me off like this. So why does she?
I look down at my own erection, jutting angrily from my body. “Fuck it,” I mutter, and turn off the water. I walk, dripping, out to the dresser where I shoved her gift and pull it out. I don’t want the toy. I’m not fucking a sleeve when she’s the one I want to be inside of.
But I grab her perfume and her thong and return to the shower with the water off. Fisting myself with the lace, I stroke myself to the image of her body beneath my hands and her lips against mine.
It doesn’t take long. Angry, frustrated need pounds through my veins, and I think of the meanness in her voice when she taunts me. How frustrated she looks when I don’t give her the satisfaction. And the sparkle of victory in her eyes when she succeeds.
I can’t let her get into my system.
So I need to get her out.
When I come, it’s to the sight of her thong wrapped around my cock, and I imagine it’s the red of her nails gripping me instead. I end up with a hand against the tile wall and try to catch my breath.
Fuck.
I stormed out of that massage room.
Sylvie can’t know. I can’t lose her as a designer, and I can’t lose the point to Paige. I’ll be damned if I surrender becauseof my own body’s inability to behave. Now that the need is gone, anger takes its place.
I should be better than this. Iambetter than this.
My anger fizzles like hot oil in a pan. I clean off in the shower and pull on clean clothes. Maybe they haven’t finished downstairs. Maybe I can salvage this.
Coming helped, but damn if the thought of her in that room doesn’t make me half hard again. I ignore it and head downstairs to the guest room.
Colette stands outside the door. I give her a wide smile. “I’m so sorry about that.”
“That’s okay,” she says with a serene smile. “I think you can still make it up to her.”
“I should, yes.” I shrug a little, like I’m sheepish. “I didn’t like the feeling of oil all over. Couldn’t handle it. Not a big massage guy, usually.”
She nods, like that makes any kind of sense. She really is the picture of professionalism. “Of course.”
“I’ll pop in and see if she needs anything,” I say. But the door opens before I can step toward it, and Paige comes out. She’s back in her sundress with her hair in a loose braid.
We both say our goodbyes to Colette. I paid and tipped her already, and my driver will take her back to Sylvie’s place. Probably to report on how we did.
When Colette’s disappeared down the hall, Paige’s smile drops. “What wasthat?”
I lean against the wall. “We participated long enough. She believed us.”
“You ran away.”
“I had better things to do.”
A flush creeps up her cheeks. They’re free of makeup, her long eyelashes bare. “Better things than making sure our cover is tight? I don’t believe that.” She takes a step closer. “You dislike me so intensely that touching me for forty minutes is too much? I don’t believe that.”
