eye contact and turned to grip the railing of the balcony, her knuckles going white from her tight grasp on the metal. From my peripheral vision, I could see the women in her group watching us with rapt attention. I doubted they heard all the words because of the loud music pumping continuously throughout the club, but I couldn’t help thinking we needed far more privacy than this venue afforded.
“Come with me.” I took her hand and began leading her from the private booth. She took several steps with me before she dug in her heels and halted our progress.
“No, Vincent. I was dead serious when I told you this wouldn’t work. As far as I can tell nothing about that has changed. You are who you are and I am who I am. That’s not fixable with a kiss or—or more.”
The image of her on her knees in front of me, my hands threaded in her hair as I tugged her head back to consume her mouth surged through my mind. My body jerked in response. Fuck. I had it bad for her and it was only getting worse.
“This isn’t just about sex and you fucking know it. Don’t be a child and pretend you don’t know what I mean.”
I regretted the words almost as soon as they came out of my mouth. When she jerked her hand from my grip, I wanted to chastise myself for trying to roll over her with this violent desire raging through me. I knew better, but it seemed when it came to her, my ability to be rational had limits.
Although it couldn’t be helped. Not after witnessing her opening like a thirsty flower on a wet, spring day. The connection between us was strong—maybe too strong.
“How dare you come here and insult me while manhandling me. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“You,” I admitted. “You are what’s wrong with me. Don’t you get that? Nothing has been the same since we met in Italy. You are stuck everywhere and I can’t escape.”
“Met.” She’d repeated only the one word, apparently disregarding the rest. “That’s an interesting choice of words. Don’t you mean when you set me up?”
I stepped closer. So close her chest brushed against mine. “If we have to go down that road yet again, it will lead to you over my lap with my hand raining down on your ass. I’m as sick to death of telling you I had nothing to do with what happened after Italy as ever. But—okay—let’s do this one more time. Only this time it will be the last.”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands,” she snapped.
“Oh, but I think I am,” I said as I reached around her back in what appeared to be a hug, but was actually an opportunity for me to thread my fingers deep under her hair and snag the strands tightly in my hands with a firm tug designed to make her eyes water. “Everyone here is on my side of this, and anyone else doesn’t have the balls to stop me.”
She tried to look towards her friends, but my grip remained steadfast and left her unable to swivel her head. A new emotion slid its way across her face and I felt the satisfaction of her fear deep in my chest. I had no intention of truly hurting her beyond what I thought she desired or could take, but my knowledge was far from hers and I took that as a sign that I would eventually prevail here.
“Why are you doing this?” The harsh whisper of her question sounded sweet to my deeply deprived soul. I had missed her. Her presence soothed an absent-minded ache that I always tried to ignore.
“Because I need to.” My answer came out more honest than I’d expected. It seemed to surprise her too and something about that loosened some of the tension filling her and her body angled slightly closer. We were so close now I could feel the heat of her body almost touching mine. A sensation I ached for.
“You can’t say things like that. You’re driving me crazy.”
A small smile quirked at my lips. “Good. I’d say the action was mutual. Now, can we go and talk? I want to explain more about Italy.”
Something about what I’d said, tightened her back up again as she tried to turn and look around. To accommodate her desire, I loosened my hold. The sudden intake of her breath caught my