She looks behind her and then back at me. “JP, I have a date . . . I don’t . . . I’m not sure . . .”
Fuck.
Fuck, the pain is searing.
Burning me.
Marking me.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Fuck, this was selfish of me. I’m sorry, Kelsey. I’m fucking sorry.” I take a seat on the edge of my bed and bury my hands in my hair.
“JP . . .”
“Just go. Forget I said anything. Please, I shouldn’t have. This puts you in a bad spot. I’m sorry . . . just go on your date.”
She’s silent.
I can feel her eyes on me.
Her indecision weighs heavily on my shoulders and when, for a moment, I think that she might stay, I hear her first step echo through my room, then another . . . then another. Trailing away from me, one step at a time, until my door is shut behind her.
Fu-uck.
I suck in a sharp breath through heavy, webbed lungs. It feels impossible to gain much-needed oxygen.
Our last night in San Francisco, and instead of spending it with me, she’s spending it with another man.
I’ve loved learning how she takes her coffee, the special breakfast she has to have in the morning.
I doubt he knows about her day-of-the-week underwear or how she curls her hair when she’s in a fun mood, straightens it when she means business.
And knowing what she tastes like when she’s wet, aroused, and looking for more? Or how she sounds and looks when she comes? That will be torture for me, going forward.
I’ve given her my truths. All I’ve ever wanted since I met her was to kiss her. Impress her.
But in the end, she will choose him.
My throat is so tight, I can barely breathe. I feel my frustrations, my emotions, bubble to the surface. The urge to call down to the concierge for a bottle of Scotch is all-consuming. Just to get lost, forget, to erase this monopolizing pain ricocheting through my chest.
I pull on my thick strands.
Fuck, what do I do now?
Leave?
Chase her down the hall, begging her to stay?
Find the nearest bar?
I can’t stay here. I can’t wait around, wondering when she’ll return. No, I need to get the fuck out of here. I need to get home. I’m a billionaire, so I can fly my fucking self whenever I damn well please. That’s what I’ll do.
Leave.
Get home tonight.
Go to my safe place, my house, where Kelsey hasn’t touched one goddamn thing. Where I won’t be reminded of her.
Where I can sink into oblivion.
I glance around for my phone. I need to make the call. I need to pack. Fuck, who cares about packing? I can buy new shit.
I just need to leave.
I just need to—
The bedroom door creaks open. My body stills as my eyes flit to the door. It cracks open some more, and then Kelsey appears.
No air in my lungs.
No blood through my veins.
Nothing is working within me as I sit there, staring . . . wondering what the hell she’s doing.
She shuts the door behind her and walks over to me. Her strides are demure, her body language timid.
Hunched over, I sit up just as she stands in front of me.
“Kelsey, I—”
Not saying a word, she straddles my lap, lifts my chin with her forefinger, and before I can attempt to take my next breath, her lips are on mine.
Fuck . . . me.
All it takes is one touch for me to break.
I’m not sure what her intentions are, and I don’t give a fuck, because she’s kissing me. Kelsey is fucking kissing me, and it feels like I just died and went to heaven.
Soft.
In control.
Yearning.
She parts her lips, dips her tongue into my mouth, and then sifts her fingers through my hair.
I snap.
My hands slide around her, one at her waist, the other at the nape of her neck, and I kiss her back with more force. I let her melt into my touch, take control.
She tugs on my hair.
I slip my hand under the hem of her dress.
She moans into my mouth.
I groan into hers.
She opens her mouth wider.
My tongue finds hers.
And then it’s a tangled mess of need. Of eagerness. Of everything I’ve ever fucking wanted, and it’s right here, available for the taking. I’m not letting go.
I can’t.
Her hand slides up to my jaw and she grips me tightly. “Unzip my dress.”
“What?” I ask breathlessly.
Her eyes connect with mine, the gold in them shining in the yellow glare of the nightstand light. “Unzip my dress, Jonah.”
My cock instantly grows hard. Is this real?
Is she real?
Am I fucking dreaming?