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My heart starts to pound again. I close my eyes and let the words wash over me, letting out a shaky breath as I try to control the emotions rioting in my blood. How is it possible to feel such joy and such pain at the same time? All the feelings I’ve managed to keep at bay for months rise swiftly to the surface.
“I’ve tried to give you some space,” He continues, his eyes on my face burning and almost wild, “I was still trying this morning, Sophie, because I thought that was what you wanted… needed.” He lets out a breath. “Well I’m done trying.” He says, his voice firm and determined as those blue eyes burn a hole through me. “I want you Sophie, and I want you back.”
Please don’t do this, I say silently, opening my eyes. He’s still looking at me, waiting for me to say something. I want to tell him how much I’ve missed him. I want to tell him how thinking of him keeps me awake at night, how he haunts all my thoughts and my dreams. I want to tell him that I love him.
But what would be the point?
“You want me back in your bed,” I say softly, “That’s the only place where I ever meant anything to you.”
His jaw clenches visibly. “You’re wrong.” He says.
“Am I?” I counter, “I don’t think so. You spent our marriage living a life you never shared with me, flirting with you ex-girlfriend….” My voice catches in my throat as the memory of him and Carole kissing on the hotel terrace tears at my heart. “You never shared anything about yourself, your work… What we have isn’t a marriage, it’s a one night stand gone on too long.”
He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “And what would you know about one night stands Sophie?” he says, his voice a sardonic lash. “You want to know about me? Maybe I should write a damn autobiography starting from the day I was born. Would that make you happy?” He doesn’t wait for a response before going on. “You want to know about what I do? Maybe you’d like to join me at the office every day, or would weekly reports be fine for you?”
I recoil from the sting of his words. “It wouldn’t.” I say frankly, “Nothing you do would make me happy.”
He swallows, then leans back and runs a hand through his hair, messing his already tousled locks. “That’s not true.” He says.
I stare at him. My eyes going from his beautiful face to the powerful body barely curbed in his tailored suit. No, it’s not true, I admit to myself. He could make me happy. He could make me happy if he loved me.
“You don’t love me.” I whisper.
He doesn’t say anything, confirming the truth of my words by his silence.
I draw in a sharp breath. Of course, he doesn’t love me. What did I expect? That he came to find me because he’d realized in my absence that he couldn’t live without me?
“Isn’t enough that I can’t stop thinking about you Sophie?” he says, his voice low and persuasive. “What else do you want from me?”
Love, but that’s always been too much.
“Nothing, David. I don’t want anything from you.” I get up and pick up my bag, making for the door, and my escape from the temptation that he is.
He springs up after me, his movements fast, yet undeniably graceful. “Sophie.” He says, making me stop. “Please wait.”
What’s the distance between wanting and love? I think as I turn around. How can he claim to want me so much and yet find it so impossible to love me?
He was standing right behind me, so that when I turn, I’m directly facing him, and our bodies are only inches apart. I look up at his face. Somehow, I know he won’t move closer unless I ask him to, even though the desire I can see in his eyes is so intense, I can feel it burning through my skin, heating my blood.
Suddenly, I know I don’t want to go. I know I’ll succumb to the desire that’s been building up since I laid my eyes on him. I barely notice as my bag hits the floor. The only thing that matters is the anticipation coursing through me as I reach up and pull his face towards mine.
Chapter Four
I’M ON FIRE, FALLING APART, trembling, and so hungry for him. His lips move over mine, and I moan softly, inviting his tongue to delve deeper into my mouth. He groans, and his arms encircle me, so strong and muscular as they pull me to him, molding my body tightly against his. He feels so familiar, and yet so different, hungrier, his body claiming contr
ol of mine with more urgency than I remember.
I press my aching body tighter against him, losing the last remnants of my self-control and offering myself to him. I pull at his clothes, all the while moaning my wild and uncontrollable need. I’m helpless against the longing, the desire, the feeling of exultation that fills my chest as his warm body presses against mine, the hard evidence of his arousal stiff against my thighs.
I don’t care where we are. I don’t care about the voice of reason in my head, telling me I’ll regret this. All I care about is being closer to his raw heat. I want him to give my body the satisfaction only he knows how to give me. I don’t care about what comes after. All that matters is now, the heat in my belly, the fire in my blood, the warm pool of desire gathering between my legs.
His hands are under my t-shirt, moving slowly over my heated skin. I groan as they move up to cup my breasts, finding my aching nipples through my bra.
“Do you know how much I’ve missed this?” He whispers huskily. “Do you have any idea how crazy you’ve been driving me?”
I can’t find the words to tell him how much I’ve missed his touch. My eyes find his, and I beg him silently not to stop. As if he can hear my thoughts, he starts to knead my breasts while teasing my nipples with his thumbs. Desire throbs insistently between my legs. I’ve wanted him for too long. I want him now.
He claims my lips again, his tongue teasing mine boldly. I reach down and wrap my fingers around him, stroking his rigid arousal through the fabric of his trousers. I hear him groan harshly as he grows even harder against my fingers.
