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He took hold of my wrists and eased my hands away from his chest.
“You can’t bear for me to touch you anymore?” I asked, tears in my eyes.
He was still holding my wrists, seeming almost reluctant to let them go. I edged my body as close to him as I could get.
“Jason,” I begged. “Talk to me.”
Instead, he kissed me. It was totally unexpected. One minute his eyes were on my face, and in the next he’d taken my lips in a hot, hungry kiss.
I burst into flames, the rush of sensations making me helpless in his arms. He released my wrists, and one hand cupped the back of my head, bringing my mouth closer to his, while the other splayed across my lower back, pressing our hips together.
I moaned into his mouth, weak from wanting him. I’d missed his touch. I’d missed drowning in his kisses. My eyes burned, and my hands moved feverishly across his shoulders and back. He was trembling, and so was I.
He released my lips and touched his forehead to mine. His body shook as he exhaled. “Daphne,” he whispered. “God! This is so hard.”
I touched my lips to his, kissing him again. I didn’t want him to stop, to think, to consider whatever had led him to distance himself from me. I wanted him to be mine again.
I stroked his tongue with mine, tasting his mouth, sucking on his lips. I touched him everywhere I could. He groaned and lifted me off my feet, carrying me out of the closet and into the bedroom.
He set me down on the bed—not very gently—then tore off my tights and panties, tossing them aside before lowering his head to kiss the lips of my sex.
I gasped at the pleasure, closing my eyes as he spread my legs and his tongue slipped down to stroke my clit. My whole body felt the pulse of pleasure, and when he drew his lips from my clit to the entrance of my sex and pushed
his tongue inside me, I screamed.
All the pent-up frustration of the past week combined with the pleasure drove me a little mad. I felt wild. My fingers dug into his hair, and I pulled hard. He gripped my thighs and continued the assault with his lips and tongue until I was sobbing, my body vibrating, begging him for release.
I sighed in gratitude when he hovered over me, undoing his trousers and freeing his cock. Tears filled my eyes when he thrust into me, filling me and making me come with just a few sweet strokes. He fucked me as my body shook and pulsed, each thrust building another wave of sensation inside me.
He pushed my sweater up, taking my bra with it and freeing my breasts. As he covered one aching nipple with his lips, I wrapped my legs around his waist and surrendered my body to him, unwilling to think of his rejection, unwilling to consider the shame that would come when…if he asked me to leave again.
His arms tightened around me, imprisoning me in his embrace as he drove me toward another climax. I cried out his name, and he whispered mine, shuddering as he came in a warm rush inside me.
I don’t know how long he held me, but it wasn’t long enough. His arms left my sides, and he pulled out of me, rolling over to hold me close to him for another few precious moments.
Then he got up, leaving me lying on the bed, and without a word, he went in the direction of the bathroom.
I lay still. I heard water running, and then it stopped. I got up. I was still wearing my sweater, and I adjusted my bra, which, beneath the wool, was pushed somewhere close to my neck. The sweater fell to my upper thighs, giving me some semblance of modesty as I went to find Jason.
He was in the closet. He’d pulled on a long-sleeved t-shirt and smoothed his hair. He looked nothing like the person who’d just made love to me. I stood at the door, watching him as he slipped on a silver watch.
“Are you going to ask me to leave again?”
His breath hitched. “No. I’m leaving.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. I’d asked all the questions, had begged him to talk to me, and it was as if I’d gone full circle and ended up in the same spot.
I spent a long time just looking at him, taking in his perfection: his beautifully sculpted face, the lips that whispered promises to me, his magnificent body that gave me so much pleasure. Now, it felt like they belonged to a stranger.
I went back into the bedroom and pulled on the rest of my clothes. I slammed the door behind me, and before I left his apartment, I set his key down on a table in the foyer.
There was no need to keep pretending.
Chapter Eight
Amy returned the day before her book launch, and I somehow managed to keep from discussing Jason at all. She was so excited and giddy with happiness that it was easy to distract her with questions about her trip and Colin’s family.
The next day, I went straight to the event from work, and I arrived at the venue a few minutes late. It was an event hall that occupied the ground floor of a commercial building. There was a separate entrance leading to a thickly carpeted lobby decorated with huge framed paintings on the paneled walls.
