My thumb strokes the soft fabric of the robe.
And to my satisfaction, a low, almost inaudible moan falls past her lips.
“Karla should’ve already contacted your sister about setting up another meeting.” The push and pull between us intensifies as my fingers itch to touch her more, to slip under her robe. “It’s done. As for your guilt about not telling your mom the truth, that’s on you and none of my goddamn business.”
I grip her hand tighter, the one that’s pinned against the wall, and when her fingers curl around mine, another part of me becomes unhinged. The need for this woman pummels me, and I can feel myself holding on by a thread.
Continuing, I say, “And your hatred for me . . . you should know that hatred isn’t mutual.”
Her piercing eyes match mine. Her voice wavers as she says, “You’ve only ever expressed distaste for me.” But that waver in her voice doesn’t match the boldness in her actions as she takes hold of my hand resting on her hip and slowly shifts it inward . . .
Until my fingers tangle with the tie of her robe.
Don’t fucking tempt me.
I may be able to separate business and pleasure, but when the line starts to blur, when my mind feels foggy and confused, there may not be any stopping me.
And I feel confused.
I feel so goddamn foggy.
My body hums with indecision, the wrong decision pulling me closer and closer to her.
“I’ve expressed annoyance, frustration, irritation, but not hate. You’re the one who has expressed hate.” My finger toys with the silk ribbon. “I have no problem with you.”
“Liar,” she says.
“Why don’t you trust me?”
“You haven’t given me reason to,” she says. Her hand glides up my chest, stopping at my shoulder, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
My teeth roll over my bottom lip as I gently tug on the tie of her robe.
She doesn’t protest.
Instead, her body moves closer to mine.
Fuck. My control is barely hanging on; it’s teetering, ready to snap.
Ready to combust.
“Have I gone back on anything I’ve said?”
“No,” she says breathlessly, her chest arching away from the wall. The movement pulls at the fabric of the robe. My eyes slide down to her chest, where the lapels of the robe dance dangerously open. Hell, what do those gorgeous tits look like bare? Are they sensitive? If I brought them into my mouth, would she moan in satisfaction?
Unable to hold back, I tug on the tie one more time, loosening one end. The small opening teases me, tempts me even further. It ignites the fire pulsing through my veins.
Fuck, what are you doing, Huxley?
Something you shouldn’t be doing.
But, fuck, she’s so tempting. I know there’s nothing under this robe, nothing but her smooth body. I glance down at her breasts, and I’m rewarded to see her pebbled nipples rubbing against the silk of the fabric. They’re so small, so goddamn sexy.
Attempting to focus on our conversation, I say, “So if I’ve never gone back on anything I’ve promised so far, why no trust?”
Her hand floats to the back of my neck, where she slowly plays with the short strands of my hair. “Because you’re deceitful.”
“Normally, I’m not.” My fingers itch to tug on the tie one more time so the robe opens. But I hold still.
“Excuse me if I can’t take your word for it.”
Rolling my teeth over my lips, I ask, “Okay, so how can I prove it to you that you can trust me?”
Her eyes become heady as she removes her hand from my neck and runs it up her body, to the gape of fabric barely covering her chest. Tantalizing me, her fingers caress her cleavage. My goddamn mouth waters. “Don’t go back on your promises.”
“But I haven’t.”
Her eyes connect with mine, and she says, “Even your silent ones.” Then, to my surprise, she undoes her robe, the sides fall open, exposing the centerline of her body.
Fuck.
Fuck me.
In seconds, I grow hard. But instead of walking away or mauling her, I decide to torture myself and slowly take her in, starting at her chest, where the robe hangs on to her breasts, barely covering them, tormenting me. Then my hungry eyes move down her taut stomach to her completely smooth pussy. My mouth waters from the sight of her. She’s only offering a brief preview, but it’s enough to drive me crazy. To push me over the goddamn edge.
She’s testing me. She’s seeing how far I’ll go.
Little does she know . . .
I started this.