He’s kept me close all night. Making sure I’m comfortable. Stealing little glances. Looking at me in that familiar way he used to. It’s brought every emotion to the surface. Confusion. Happiness. Hope.
And buried underneath it all?
Sadness. A deep, hollow ache of wanting something so badly, of being so close to every dream coming true, and not being able to hold onto it.
I wish I was stronger. The kind of woman who could stand beside a man like Matthew Grayson and not feel like everyone is silently wondering if I’m enough for him.
I wish I was brave. That I could stand up to my family and tell them I choose him. That I’ve always chosen him… even when it meant walking away from him.
But mostly, I wish I could be selfish. Just for one night. That I could forget everything with Cole andwhywe’re doing this and just sleep with him. Let him do all the things I know he’s dying to do, simply because it would feel good.
I’d have to be drunk as hell to do something stupid like that, and this is only my second glass of champagne. I barely feel anything at all.
The guy Matt’s talking to shakes his hand before taking mine and doing the same thing, only softer. “Jordan, it was very nice to meet you.”
“You as well. Thank you,” I reply with a smile.
He gives Matt a nod and says, “I’ll see you in Zurich,” before turning and walking away.
Matt turns to me the second he’s gone. His hand slides behind my neck, and his lips are on mine before I have time to turn away. It’s firm and soft at the same time. No tongue. Just the heat of his mouth on mine for a second too long, bordering on inappropriate. I grip his lapels, steadying myself when my legs go weak.
He nips at my bottom lip with a grin. Then gives me a peck on the mouth.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“There was a guy who was staring at you. Wanted to make sure he knew you were taken.”
I shake my head softly, something like pride filling my chest. “You’re ridiculous. It’s not like I’m interested in anyone here.”
“Hmm. That’s not true,” he says simply, amusement in his eyes.
Cocky bastard.
And God, it’s such a turn on.
“Oh, really? You think you know what’s going on in my mind?”
A corner of his mouth lifts. “Babe, I can read you like an open book.”
“Yeah? Then what am I thinking right now?”
He pulls me in close, mouth at my ear, palm flat against my spine, fingers dangerously low. “You’re thinking about the other night. My hands on your skin. How you want them to slide into that dress and touch you. Make you feel everything you’ve been denying yourself.”
All the blood rushes to the center of my legs.
“Matt.”
A British accent cuts in, and Matt turns to meet him, leaving me standing there speechless. Matt introduces me, but it all blurs together.This is my wife. This is Joel. A friend of Leo’s. A capital partner.
The room spins. I can’t focus on any one spot—only the pulsing between my thighs, growing louder every passing second. “Will you excuse me?” I blurt, interrupting their conversation.
They turn to me, and I pull my shit together. “I’m sorry, I need to use the ladies room. I’ll be right back.”
I weave through the crowd, but I don’t go to the restroom. I go straight to the bar because I can’t fucking breathe.
This built-up tension, this longing, this desire, whatever I’m going to call it, it’s making me feel insane. The pressure all piling up at once.
I need a solution.
