I’m bursting with joy and relief—relief that this hasn’t all been one-sided. That his abandonment of me is all in my head. I don’t pretend to understand exactly what’s going on here, and I know this goes against everything I’ve ever done to protect myself. Told myself. But I can’t help it—I don’t want to help it.
I just know I want to give in. Give in to it. Give in to him.
‘Well,’ I begin, unable to move my eyes from his. ‘I suppose we should . . . drink tea.’
‘Or you could let me kiss you.’ A dare glitters in his gaze.
‘I don’t remember you asking last time.’
‘That was before you told me to stay away.’ Even as he answers, he’s cradling my face in his hands, slanting his head. Parting my lips with his tongue.
I find myself sighing. It’s as though every fibre of my being has been tight, or tangled like a woollen ball and now? Now I’m unfurling in his arms, undone by this man, by his tender lips and the subtle strokes of his tongue.
As he pulls back, his eyes are darkly dilated, more midnight sky than lush green. ‘This mouth was made for kissing,’ he murmurs, his thumb skimming my tingling bottom lip. ‘I’ve thought about this mouth for so many nights.’ He presses a kiss to the corner, his lips grazing mine. At the tauntingly sweet brush of his tongue, I push up onto my toes, aching and desperate for more. ‘So greedy.’ The heat of his words whisper across my lips as I reach for him, but then he grabs my wrists, shackling them in his fingers.
‘No one likes a tease.’ My words sound hoarse as he lowers my arms to my sides.
‘You know that’s not true.’ His words, like his kisses, are soft but insistent. Petal-soft brushes, a lick, a graze and he continues to tease. ‘You like me . . . very . . . very . . . much.’
Oh, my God. What is he doing to me? I mean, apart from shackling my hands while he tortures me. Is it the suit that makes him like this, or is this how he really operates? You know, when he’s not pretending to be a helplessly cute tourist. I’ve never experienced this kind of need. Never felt the slow burn of a glancing, dancing tease. It’s quite literally making me dizzy. Dizzy with need.
‘Please, Remy, kiss me. Kiss me properly.’
The voice is mine, but it doesn’t sound like me as, with each press of his lips, I become a little more needy, a little more desperate, until his tongue brushes my own, and I’m suddenly moaning into his mouth. In that instant, everything changes as he pulls me closer, his mouth suddenly urgent and greedy. It’s all so familiar yet also new as he begins to manoeuvre me backwards across the room. It isn’t just the press of his freshly shaven cheek that’s different; it’s in the subtleties of his touch. Or maybe that should be the lack of subtleties as his hands slips to the hem of my top, pulling it up and over my head.
It drops to the floor, my white flag of surrender, his gaze devouring my skin.
‘You like me so much you’d even beg.’
‘That wasn’t begging. That was asking. Nicely.’
‘Very nicely.’ His hands slide around my hips, the span of those long fingers making me feel tiny for a change.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Somewhere more forgiving than the desk.’ Though playful, there’s an edge to his words.
‘I didn’t mind the desk,’ I rasp as we reach the bottom of the sweeping industrial-style staircase
‘We’ll add it to the list. My desk, the piano, the cinema room. Out by the pool under the moon. I want it all. I want you everywhere.’ My attention moves to the wall of windows. Does he mean everywhere or everywhere? ‘What do you think?’ he almost taunts, reading my expression. ‘Don’t worry.’ His lips finding the sensitive spot behind my ear. I’ll be good. For a little while, at least.’
Oh, my God. Why does that excite me? And which is it . . . that he’ll be good for now, or that he won’t be eventually? All I know is I feel hot, literally, and figuratively as I reach for the edge of the scarf at my neck.
‘Leave it. For now.’
‘Because then no one looking in can say they saw me truly naked?’
‘You’re forty-seven floors up. No one is going to see you come. No