Because nothing in recent memory had turned her on as much as proper, straight-laced Jacob Campbell using the wordfuckin that low, even tone.
Her heart beat faster as he shifted closer, creating an intimate bubble around them. “Should I tell you?” he asked with devastating softness. “Should I tell you how I think about those house parties you allegedly throw? Yeah, I’ve heard of them. Should I tell you what I thought when I watched you have sex with another man?”
She was frozen. When had he wrested the control from her? She struggled to speak, to be her sassy self. “At those parties, I don’t limit myself to men,” she managed.
Hot arousal flared in his eyes. Heat poured off his body. For a moment, she despised him for coming back into her life, letting her see the fire running underneath his proper surface. She’d be so cold when he left.
“You should never have to limit yourself.”
Her eyes slitted in pleasure at the frank approval of his words. Oh, but if he only knew how gluttonous her appetites could be, he would never give her free rein.
She breathed in deep, struggling to regain the upper hand. “I don’t think wanting me was ever your problem. Your problem is hating yourself for it.”
“Ask me if I feel disgusted with myself right now. After grinding you to an orgasm in an alley. After coming in your mouth in my car. After imagining taking you up to your bedroom.”
She could barely get the words out. “Do you feel disgusted?”
His smile was so bright it hurt her. The lines around his eyes and mouth deepened. “Not in the slightest.”
“That’s it? Your issues are gone?” She snorted. “Wow. I’m better than a psychiatrist.”
“They aren’t gone. But my desire to be with you is trumping my stupid issues.”
“I thought you didn’t want to be obsessed with me.”
“Yeah, that was a dumb thing to say, huh? Turns out, I don’t know how to be anything but obsessed with you. So, please…let me.”
She’d never found a man pleading sexy, but somehow Jacob pulled it off, so much so she had to look away. “I’m happy this weird aversion therapy has worked for you. But it changes nothing. You don’t want me.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Some people are amazing when you scratch away that first layer.” These words were difficult, a betrayal of the proud, confident woman she portrayed to the world. “Like you. But not me. I’m not better.”
His lips compressed. “You know what, why don’t you let me make that decision?”
“Because somehow I’ve ended up liking you,” she said gently.
His mouth opened. “I…like you too. That’s all the more reason for us to—”
“I like you too much to fuck with you. So, no.” She injected every ounce of finality she could into her voice. “I’m sorry. But no. Please unlock the door.”
He blinked. Looked down at his console and disengaged the lock. “You know what I think?”
There was such coldness in his voice, she paused in opening her door. “I don’t care.”
“I’ll tell you anyway. I believe you’re running scared.’’
She stilled, her back to him, before slowly coming to her feet, hand resting on the door. “I’ve destroyed men who have dared to call me a coward, darling.”
“Yeah? I’d rather you destroy me than shut me out for my own good. We’re not done, Akira.” His smile flashed. She could have frozen him out if it had been a threat, but she was unable to respond to that seductive promise. She closed the door on his final words. “You owe me one more night.”
Chapter Fourteen
The black envelope came at noon the next day. Jacob murmured his thanks to the private courier who handed it to him and closed his front door, turning the mysterious card over in his hand.
Made of thick vellum, it was heavy and slick, the paper too glossy to be from anything but a specialty stationery store.
He inserted his finger under the flap and opened it as he walked back to his kitchen. Tossing the envelope on the counter, he peered at the words printed in embossed gold font on the single-page invitation.
