Each step he takes towards me is deliberate, unhurried—as if savouring the sizzling connection between us. It’s a sight to see, and he makes no effort to mask this sense of predatory authority that clings to him. Sleek as a jaguar, danger seems to dance beneath his skin with every move. But his mood shifts the instant he sees what’s on my wrist, and he doesn’t just radiate danger, he becomes lethal.
Another few steps and I am enveloped by his scent. I’m not sure I will ever get used to the intensity of it—the first tease of the ozone sharp enough to jolt you into awareness. But the deeper notes that follow are heavier, grounding—fresh earth after a downpour. There’s a richer tone of crisp woody notes that soothes, reminding me of comfort and strength and all of it combined together to swim through my senses.
I’m in that funny headspace, where I’m acutely aware of his scent and the things it makes me feel, but I’m consumed by watching him, studying every reaction. I can see the instance he steps into my perfume. I’m misting it, like I’m leaking happiness, and he doesn’t hide the slow smirk pulling at his lips. He runs a hand nervously through his dark hair—I doubt he even realises he’s doing it—but as he brushes it off his face, I’m floored by how handsome he is. And by how much he turns me on.
With an impatient snap of his fingers, he clears away all the people loitering nearby. I should probably pay more attention to how he does that, but nothing else matters. He doesn’t alter course, and in the next breath I take, he’s running one of his hands up the side of my thigh, while using the other to hook a finger under the white wrist band, trapping me in place with that single point of contact.
The air crackles around us, and as he leans down to pressa kiss to my cheek, he snaps the band off before his thumb circles on my now naked wrist.
“And that goes against all those rules of yours, sir.” I seriously shock and impress myself at the hint of challenge in my voice. I have no clue where my confidence comes from, but I like it. So does he, judging by the thickening of his scent.
He chuckles against my ear, the rush of his breath shivering down my spine and across my skin. “You were taken the second I laid eyes on you. I’ve already told you, you’re mine. Time was the only thing holding me back and now you’re here; it looks like you’ve come to the same conclusion.”
“What conclusion would that be?”
“You’ve ended things with him, I take it?” he purrs against my ear.
My heart hammers so hard, I know he hears it because he pulls away so he can look into my eyes as I answer him. I won’t lie though.
“No.”
Hendrix loses some of the light in his eyes, and they harden because of it. His lips draw straighter, but I stop him pulling away before I get the chance to explain why I’m here.
“Are you disappointed by the fact I won’t break it off with him?”
“Disappointment is probably not the right word,” he bristles.
“But here I am, waiting for you in your club, using your money and the membership card you gifted me. Doesn’t that count for more than me still being with him?”
“I want everything with you, Simona.”
I hum softly, sorting through the force of his certainty. It’s a lot, especially in such a short time. But Hendrix and I are more than just scent matched, we share the same conviction.Lifting my glass, I take a sip of water while I figure out how to answer him as honestly as I can.
Hendrix doesn’t back up, though I lean into him, making it obvious I don’t want the space either. And despite the drop of his happiness, which is obvious to me as night is to day, he doesn’t make me feel like an idiot or an asshole.
Satisfied I’ve had enough of a breather to continue, he swivels my chair until I’m facing him, leaving no room for distraction. His eyebrows pitch up with impatience, and before I can think twice, my hand curls around his chin, guiding him back down toward me. There’s no conscious decision in the movement. It’s happening exactly the way it’s meant to, without hesitation or doubt.
“I need more time, but I’m also impatient. Which is why I am here. I have a proposal I’d like you to think about.”
The smirk falls away, and I get a flash of his designation in his eyes and a press of his presence—he’s irritated, but I would be too.
“Can I ask that you let me say what I want to say, and then also let me leave. Don’t answer straight away because that’s not fair. What I’m asking is a lot. I’d also appreciate you not interrupting or denying me the opportunity to explain it all first. And yes, that sounds awfully presumptuous, but you make me braver. More desperate too, but that’s another issue entirely.”
In response, I get another of his smiles—and he has a few different ones—but this one is reaffirming. In case I don’t read it properly, Hendrix pushes against my hand that’s cupping his face, urging me to focus on him and to keep going. His jaw is hard as stone under my touch, probably because I asked him to not speak until I had finished, but his hands on my body are gently encouraging me to go on.
“I am being brazen and overly forward, and maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, assuming we’re on the same page.Hopefully we are, then you’ll understand what I’m going to say.” I pause and take the time to look in his eyes. In them I see both the future I want and the path I have to endure. “I can’t give you what I think you want, which is all of me. I want to?—”
I forbid youhammers against my submission in time with the race of my heart. My throat locks up almost instantly, and I have to cough to clear it. I thought it might, when I came up with this plan, but I can’t let Brody stop me. I’m confident I can talk around his bark; well, I hope I can.
“Packing isn’t an option. It is not on the table. If that is the only outcome you can see, this is where we end, or I can give you everything in between.”
He growls, pushing harder against my hand, and I take it as a cue to keep going.
“I want you so much it hurts,” I whisper, and my scent plumes to confirm the truth of those words before it falls away. “And this is where I push without knowing almost anything about you, especially your views on life and the morals by which you live. I don’t want anyone else knowing about us.”
He scoffs; it’s not an ugly noise full of derision. Instead, it’s a release of surprise, and I can already see on his face that I’ve completely blindsided him in terms of our hopefully blossoming relationship. His mouth opens and shuts a few times, his eyes dancing over my face, looking for more, and I think I can read a hundred different outcomes.
“I have a pack, Simona.”
