He’s taken my power. I’ve become powerless.
I might have procured a release, but my needs are nowhere near close to being met.
Because what I really need ishim.
16
ARCHIE
The tables have fully turned. It’s Victoria avoiding looking at me since our encounter in Sublime Secrets yesterday. She’s also avoiding eating with me. Or breathing the same air.
An appropriate name for a lingerie shop coincidently, because if anyone discovers our ephemeral encounter, our rendezvous will cost me everything. My place in Ryan’s family. My job. My sense of purpose. My home.
What happened between us was as inevitable as the rising sun.
I barely laid my hands on her, but I’m under no illusion that getting your client off with their own vibrator is a sackable offence. Not to mention what Ryan would do to me if he found out.
I torpedoed over the line. The worst thing is, it did nothing to relieve this thing between us. Instead of closure, I got captivation.
Addiction.
Victoria’s shaking pelvis, fevered shudders and hooded hazel fuck-me eyes are the only images I see every single time I shut my eyes. The feel of her slickness on my fingers. What I wouldn’t give to watch Victoria spiral into ecstasy in my arms again and again and again.
That lingerie scenario was more transcendent than any personal fantasy I’ve concocted over the years.
The same items, delicately wrapped in glossy boxes, remain untouched on the kitchen table. Abandoned amongst the million bouquets of flowers she received after her attack.
Is she mad at me? Or mad with herself for allowing things to escalate like that?
None of my relationships ever lasted long enough for me to decipher female body language. Well, out of the bedroom anyway.
I glance at my chunky Swiss watch, a Christmas gift from Ryan five years ago. If Victoria doesn’t get a move on, she’ll be late for her first shift back.
Cutting it to the last second, she stomps down the stairs two at a time in her usual white Converse. Wearing a pair of faded skinny jeans and an oversized jumper, she looks equally as stunning as she did in that dressing room yesterday.
A fleeting closer inspection reveals tell-tale puffy shadows beneath her eyes.
Clearly, the orgasm did nothing to help her sleep.
The two I gave myself in the shower furiously afterwards did nothing to help me switch off, either.
Desire licks at my soul, a flame that rises fiercer and higher and increasingly out of control with each passing day.
It’s inescapable. It’s all consuming. I should resign, but the prospect of not seeing her is even worse than the prospect of being near her and not being able to touch her.
‘Coffee?’ I offer. Maybe a peace offering will soften her mood. Break this weirdness between us.
‘No.’ She adds, ‘Thank you,’ in a pained tone. Like she’d rather do anything than utter another word to me, but her impeccable upbringing insists upon excellent manners.
We head out to the SUV. That strawberry scent pollutes the car like the most delicious poison.
‘Victoria…’ It’s impossible to articulate the right words.
‘Don’t, Archie. Just don’t.’ She flicks her hair from her shoulder.
‘I’m sorry.’ I grip the steering wheel tightly to stop my tingling palm reaching out to touch her.
‘Sorry? For what exactly? Sorry you took pity on me and let me convince you your job title involves serving my needs?’ Victoria buries herself deeper into her oversized coat like she’s willing it to swallow her whole.
