Like my breath was stilted along with hers.
Like there was an invisible thread tying us together, and it was in danger of snapping. But that’s not something words can explain.
‘But how?’ she presses in a gentle, curious voice. ‘You couldn’t see behind the curtain.’
‘I had a feeling something was off. Call it a hunch.’ I turn the heat down on the stove and let the Bolognese simmer, resting my backside against the countertop.
‘I dropped to my knees to look for your feet beneath the rim of the curtain. I saw his feet flanking yours and I knew right away.’
She swallows hard, continuing to stare at me. ‘Thank you.’
‘It’s my job.’ A flashback of my lips pressing against her temple reminds me not all of my actions were part of the job description.
Against my better judgement, I grab my glass and stride across the room, dropping onto the couch beside her.
The need to be near her is primal.
For a man who couldn’t stand to look at her, I can’t seem to tear my eyes off her now. That’s what happens when you think you might lose somebody. The events of this evening have flipped my perception of the world on its head. And I’m struggling to flip it back again.
Thick glossy hair falls loosely over her shoulders in unruly waves. Toffee-coloured highlights shimmer through the dim firelight. The urge to wrap it in my fist and drag her plump, parted mouth to mine eats me alive.
I extend a hand to offer comfort, support, even friendship, but the second her soft skin grazes mine, that immense explosive chemistry crackles between us.
Her backside writhes involuntarily on the leather beneath her, the new position sending her bare thigh to rest against mine.
She grabs my other hand and tugs until I twist to face her fully. Dark smouldering pupils burn me through to the core. A longing swells like a rising spring tide.
A sultry breath slips from her chest. ‘Finally, he looks at me.’ She addresses an imaginary audience.
Thank God there’s no one actually here to witness this because I’m teetering dangerously close to the edge of doing something there’s no coming back from.
‘I was beginning to wonder if my name was Medusa, the way you’ve been avoiding me. Like one look would change your life forever.’
I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth. ‘One lookdidchange my life forever, but that was a long time ago.’
She edges closer, as if sensing my rapidly depleting willpower.
‘Looking at you is…’ I search for a word with enough significance to express what I’m trying to convey. The one thing I shouldn’t express. ‘…distracting beyond measure. You are the definition of stunning.’ I swirl the whiskey around my glass.
Her lips curlinto a triumphant smile.
‘And off-limits.’ Am I reminding her? Or myself?
The shock of almost losing her earlier has done something to my rationale. My fingers trail up her arms, chasing and creating goosebumps in their wake. ‘I want you, Victoria. More than is healthy for either of us.’
A sigh of pure, unconcealable longing echoes between us. Did it come from her or me?
‘I thought I was the doctor. Let me be the judge of what’s healthy.’ She prises the glass from my fingers and sets it on the coffee table next to hers.
When she turns back to face me, there’s a potent desire in her eyes I can’t ignore. I can’t deny her or myself any longer. The tension between us detonates like a bomb. Our lips crash together in a hot, desperate frenzy of sliding lips and gnashing teeth. There’s a raw carnality between us that I’ve never experienced with anyone else. My tongue plunders into her mouth, tasting, exploring, and devouring her from the inside out.
It’s not enough. Nowhere near it. The need to be inside her is overpowering.
She climbs onto my lap, a smooth, creamy thigh balancing either side of my hips. My hungry hands slip beneath the silk of her top, skimming the soft, taut skin of her stomach. Skirting beneath her breasts. She grinds her pelvis on top of me in response, communicating exactly how urgent those needs she mentioned are.
I need to stop this.
I have to.
