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Not expecting Samantha’s suddenly sober tone, Natalia furrowed her brow before catching herself and relaxing her face. “What has given you the false impression that I play, Professor?”
“I missed you. You missed me,” Samantha said with complete conviction. “Why is that so hard to admit?”
The question was a presumptuous affront. “And you think what, Dr. Reyes? That I’m so?—”
“I think you think wanting to spend time with someone makes you vulnerable.” Samantha leaned in closer while interrupting her. “And admitting it...” She made a face like it pained her to reveal her thoughts, despite Natalia knowing she loved it. Samantha loved to shock her with sincerity. “Well, that’s tantamount to flipping onto your back and showing me your soft, fluffy tummy.”
Natalia’s body thrummed with an electric tension she shouldn’t name. It was angry and hot and exciting and dangerous. Pinning Samantha down with her gaze, Natalia was locked in. “I can assure you, Samantha, there is nothing fluffy about me.”
Color rushed over Samantha’s face at the strategic use of her name. She made no effort at hiding her delight as she stretched out her leg, propping her foot on the bottom rung of Natalia’s bar stool and leaning forward.
“I don’t know about that…” she said like a physician reviewing test results. “Middle of the night texts… and I’m willing to bet that you haven’t slept with anyone else since you met me. Tell me that’s not a little fluff.”
Natalia refused to react to the facts. “And you think me, what? A sex addict?”
Samantha’s eyes turned incandescent. “You don’t want to know what I think.”
“I’m not in the habit of wasting words,” she said dryly, which only triggered a smile on Samantha’s perfect fucking lips.
“Alright.” Samantha drained the rest of her drink and pushed aside the plate of untouched calamari and the flatbread that followed it. “I think you crave intimacy, but don’t know how to get it. You want to connect without giving up an ounce of yourself, which is impossible. So that leaves you with the raw, intense, overwhelming power of pure physical intimacy.” Her cologne was invading Natalia’s senses again, the temptation of her lips inches from hers as Samantha bored into her with an unwavering gaze and disquieting theories. “And it gets you so close, doesn’t it? So close to recreating that connection we need from other people…” Samantha’s palm was scorching as it slid over the outside of Natalia’s bare thigh and up the fabric of her dress. “But it’s not quite right, so you keep looking for it somewhere else. With someone else. Someone who can give without taking.” She was so close Natalia couldn’t tell whose breath was in her lungs. “And then you met me.”
When Samantha’s lips brushed her own, Natalia closed her eyes for a single indulgent second. The relief of being seen was a drug that made her weightless for a fleeting breath. And then gravity took hold and Natalia opened her eyes.
“You think you know so much. So overconfident.” Natalia rose like a tide stretching to scrape the sky. To show it wasn’t the only majestic, unknowable thing. “You think you have me all figured out?—”
“Not in the least,” Samantha confessed, brown eyes intent and bleeding with sincerity. “You give so little, and all I want is more. All I want is more of you. Because I don’t need to hear it back, but I do want you to hear me when I say that I missed you, and all I thought about when I was traipsing from one campus to the next was seeing you again. Dreaming about you giving me just another sliver of you.”
Natalia allowed an unfamiliar warmth to drip over her skin and seep into her marrow. She allowed herself to believe. They were nearing the end of their affair, Natalia was sure. What harm could there be in a little make-believe? A little illusion.
“Is that what you want, Samantha?” Natalia hooked her finger in the loop of her jeans. “Just a little taste?”
Dragging her teeth over her own bottom lip, Samantha was vibrating with want, with need, with hunger. “I want a great deal more than a taste.”
Natalia wanted too. Wanted more than she could have. Wanted more than was safe to handle. Wanted and wanted and wanted.
“Let me take you home.” Samantha’s voice was low and soft and speaking directly to the ache between Natalia’s thighs. “And don’t leave me panting and alone in bed while you walk away.”
Natalia gave into recklessness. Gave in to risk and danger and uncertainty. “I’m not going to leave you alone in bed, Dr. Reyes.” Her lips twitched to the beat of something wicked. “But that’s because I wouldn’t leave you in my house unattended,” she whispered.
When understanding brightened Samantha’s half-lidded eyes, Natalia called for the check.
CHAPTER 25
Following behind Natalia’s car, Sam pulled up to a massive ornate gate that screamed champagne wishes and caviar dreams. When the gate lumbered open, Sam rolled past solid walls to gain access to the grounds of an unbelievable estate. She wondered whether Natalia was clued in to the irony of her home’s barriers being as formidable as her emotional ones.
The pristine, white stucco mansion was the textbook definition of modern architecture. Hard lines and simple, clean landscaping made the place more suited to South Beach than Natalia’s old money neighborhood, but it matched the woman herself. It was elegant and imposing in a sort of aloof way.
When Natalia stopped in front of her garage, Sam parked next to her. “Home sweet home, huh?”
Next to her, Natalia shot her half a glance before punching a code into her front door. An enormous wooden thing that pivoted open and was big enough to let in Noah’s Ark two-by-two.
After disabling the kind of security system designed for The Purge, Natalia flipped on a light.
As soon as Sam stepped inside behind Natalia, she was struck by awe. The foyer alone was bigger than a one-bedroom apartment, with soaring twenty-foot ceilings and polished white marble floors that gleamed under the recessed lighting.
Ahead, a grand staircase with intricate wrought-iron railings swept up to the second-level balcony overlooking the space. Everything was pristine white - walls, furniture, even an enormous floral arrangement on a console table. It reminded Sam of a museum or luxury hotel lobby, elegantly minimalist and lacking any clutter or personal touches.
When Natalia slipped off her heels, Sam kicked off her own shoes and left them by the door. There was something about the way Natalia walked away from her, barefoot and completely comfortable in her environment, that made Sam’s pulse jump.
