The Price of Inertia (The Seven Sins #4) - Lily Zante Page 0,55
I gaze at him, needing to read his thoughts, wishing I could tell what he was thinking.
What now?
I need to gauge what’s going on behind those eyes. His gaze never moves from my lips and I wonder when we will kiss.
But the doorbell rings.
He stares at me, before putting his hand to my waist—I don’t flinch, it’s like my body wants more—and he pulls out the hem of my skirt so that my skirt is hanging down and I am decent once more.
My chest is still heaving but my disgruntled nerve endings are pissed that he’s stopped stroking me.
I look at him with longing, and at the same time I try to smooth a hand over my hair, smooth down my blouse and skirt. “Jamie’s late,” I say, making myself presentable as quickly as I can. My eyes fall to his huge bulge between his legs.
“You won’t be ready to do a workout with that in the way,” I quip. I bite my lip, wishing, wanting, desiring that we had found some sort of release.
“It’s not Jamie. I told him not to come today. It’s Rob.”
“Rob?” I cry, running another hand over my hair. “What’s he doing here?”
“Take care of him,” he says, gruffly, “Give him a beer or something.”
“A beer? This early in the—”
“I didn’t expect him here so soon. Give him anything.”
“And you?” I’m so aroused, glancing down I notice my erect nipples peaking under my blouse.
“I need to take care of something,” he grumbles, not looking at me.
Chapter 23
WARD
This woman is going to kill me. If anyone’s going to die from blue balls, it’s me. She makes me do things. Behave in ways I never thought I would. We all have fantasies, but she makes me want to play mine out. She presses my buttons, and I can’t resist her.
In the safety of my room, I jerk off again, all the time thinking of Mari bent over my writing desk. I can still smell her sweet flowery scent, can still recall the way I touched her.
I haven’t been with a woman, much less spent intimate time with one, for so long. My memory fogs over at my past fleeting encounters. I have never come on to a woman like that. I’ve never jerked off so much either. My characters fill my brain. My plot twists and turns feed my imagination. I have no time in my life, or space in my head to divert to anything but my writing.
Yet Mari has crawled into my brain. She has filled my head and taken over my thoughts so that I can’t think of anything or anyone but her. I’m not prone to obsession, but obsess about this woman I do.
I’ve crossed a line somewhere. She brazenly stood her ground that day in her bedroom, and I did my best to keep away, but when she hid my pen it got me thinking. It’s hard not to think of her, to erase the sight of her on her yoga mat, in her clingy, body-sculpting gym clothes.
I’m only a man.
And she’s become a serious diversion.
And if Rob hadn’t turned up so early, what else might have happened between us? Since I’m almost done with my first draft, I’ll be able to return to New Orleans. I should return. It’s what I wanted to do before, but now, I’m not so sure. Returning means no more Mari.
When I walk into the kitchen, Rob is sitting on the stool with his back to me, and Mari, standing, looks at me. She’s wearing an apron now and I wonder if she’s trying to hide her pebbled nipples. I grit my teeth, forcing my errant mind not to go to places that will give me another boner.
Rob turns around, then gets up to shake my hand.
“Hey, there.”
“Hi.” I shake hands but can’t bring myself to look at Mari, even though the weight of her gaze feels heavy on my face.
She knows I was taking care of myself, jerking myself to a release, with her in my mind. Shame and embarrassment curdle in my stomach. I am used to not giving much of myself to anyone, but this stranger and I have shared many stolen intimate moments. It seems tawdry. Deliciously so.
“Shall we discuss this outside?” I ask. I need to move away from Mari. I can’t be here, in the same house as Mari, and act normal, not after what just happened.
“Outside?”
From the periphery of my vision I catch Mari lifting her head in surprise.