“I can’t help it. I want to touch you.”
I struggled to catch my breath. “I didn’t say you couldn’t touch me.”
“But when I do, it’s not enough. Is this enough for you?”
He did not give me a chance to respond. He plunged his tongue deep in my mouth at the same moment his hand slid between my legs.
His touch was shocking, and I gasped against his mouth.
It’s not enough, my subconscious agreed.
Because of the clash going on in my head, I didn’t stop him immediately, and his knee moved between my legs. It was agonizingly hot and uncomfortable trapped beneath him, and things spun out of control when his fingers found the top button on my shirt.
He undid it.
Then another.
My knees threatened to buckle as he focused on the next button and released it, my shirt hanging open.
“Wait.” Terror swept through me. “Wait.”
He raised his head, towering over me, and his brown eyes filled with confusion.
“Please let me go,” I begged.
Time slowed as he considered disregarding my plea, but then he released his hold. Cold air washed over me as he stepped back and let me pull my shirt closed.
“I have two voices in my head. One that’s telling me to stop,” I blurted, “and one telling me to keep going.”
He said it like he was being playful, but his expression was serious. “I’d be happy to give you advice on which one to listen to.”
There was something in his eyes that was so scary I couldn’t look at him another second. With my shirt still undone, I kept it closed with one hand and used the other to push open the door as I fled the studio.
In my panic, I ran headfirst into someone’s chest. It was a hardened wall of muscle, and I bounced off it.
“Plavko,” I gasped.
His gaze slid over my undone shirt, his face unchanged. “Everything is all right?”
“It’s fine,” I lied. “You surprised me.” Why was he always around?
He said nothing, offered no apology.
I sought shelter in my room, where I filled an entire page with words before there was a knock on my door.
“Are you okay?” Ryan’s voice was muffled through the door. “Can I come in?”
“It’s your house,” I bit out.
When the door swung open, he leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, and looked guilty as hell. “I’m sorry. It took a full three days before you let me kiss you last time. We’re well ahead of schedule, and I’m still being an impatient asshole.”
The same need I felt in the library crept in, destroying all other thought. “Can you be patient a few more days?”
His arms uncrossed and he straightened. “Yes, I can wait until we’re married. That’s what you’re saying, right?”
Well, shit. I nodded slowly, sure I’d just agreed to something horrible. He came toward me with purpose, a dark look of satisfaction on his face.
“That makes me want to reschedule my meeting and move up the wedding.”
