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Her eyes widen instantly. Her breath catches. Every patch of skin my fingers touch breaks into goosebumps.
She definitely remembers the conversation from my office, the day she asked me to sign the approval for the event she organized for Hartho. The day she reminded me of my mistake with Irina and told me, without hesitation, that she’s better than me at having sex in public places, because she’s done it plenty of times and never been caught.
She looks at me with reproach now. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to bring up this subject with me.”
She pushes my hand away, refusing my touch. But I step closer and slip both hands around her waist, anchoring her in place.
“If you want to compare public sex experiences,” she says sharply, “I’ll go find a few men to have those experiences with. Then you can tell me how well you fucked Irina and whoever else, in whatever public place you felt like.”
What I’m about to say is definitely toxic. But God, I love her jealousy. Her eyes are intense, her breathing quickens, and her voice carries that edge she only reaches when she’s close to losing control.
Slowly, I fit my hand around her neck and wrap it loosely, pulling her toward me.
“The only man you’ve had, and will continue to have sexual experiences with, in any place, is me,” I say, calm, cool. “And if you want the men you choose for those experiences to end up dead, then by all means, try me.”
“What am I supposed to say or do, considering you had sex with other women?” she demands, not bothering to hide the jealousy burning through her.
I wrap a hand around her waist and pull her even closer. Then I take two steps back and drop onto the sofa, guiding her toward me.
She doesn’t resist. She lets me pull her into my lap, straddling me, her legs on either side of my hips.
Leaning my head back, I groan, low and rough.
“Thalia, I can’t change the past,” I say, my voice filled with honesty. “I’m sorry you saw me in that situation with Irina.” Her expression turns off completely; she’s clearly affected, even if she tries to mask it. “I didn’t even want it to happen,” I admit.
She raises her eyebrows but still says nothing.
“I went to the bathroom right after talking to you at the table,” I explain. “I was angry because I couldn’t understand why you affected me so much when I knew you were Theo’s woman. I went in, and she followed me…”
I pause, meeting her eyes. Her jaw is clenched, her breathing restrained, her posture rigid. But she needs to hear this.
“Nothing I say will make it okay, but this is the truth. I thought I needed to get you out of my head.”
She wraps both arms around her own waist, swallowing hard, staring somewhere past my shoulder.
“Nothing happened after you left,” I continue. This time she looks straight at me. “And like I told you, whenever something did happen with her or anyone else, it meant nothing.”
“I can’t tell the difference between something that means nothing and something that does,” she whispers. “Even with me, it means nothing. We agreed it’s just sex.”
“Thalia,” I say softly, “I never went back to any woman for a repeat. And another. And another. Don’t tell me you can’t see the difference between what I’m explaining about my past and what’s happening between us.”
Her expression changes suddenly, like in a movie—from neutral to softened, almost glowing. She turns her face toward me, a faint smile flashing at the edges.
“What’s the point of talking about all this, Ethan?” she asks lightly.
Then she stands abruptly. I move to follow her, but she stops me with her hands on my shoulders, pushing me back against the sofa.
She stays between my legs, then sensually sinks to her knees.
“Thalia…” I begin, but she puts a finger to her lips.
“Shhh.”
Both her hands rise to my waist as she unbuttons my pants.
And for some reason, with her kneeling in front of me, her breath warm against my skin, I know she’s made a decision she hasn’t told me yet.
But I don’t get the chance to think or say anything, because she pulls down my pants and my boxers in one swift movement.
