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“If it was hard for me, I can’t imagine what it must be like for you.”
She purses her lips, as if trying to swallow her words, hide her feelings.
“Talk to me, Emilia. You don’t have to hide from me, or pretend.”
“I—” She takes a deep breath before finally opening up. “It’s an emotional roller coaster every day. I never know when she’s going to have a good moment or a bad one. Even though she’s been sick for a while, I can’t get used to it. I can’t accept it.”
I pull her into my arms, and she tucks her feet under her, molding the side of her upper body against my chest, not even attempting to move away. I kiss the top of her head, inhaling her floral scent, brainstorming for a way to calm her down. Cracking a joke doesn’t seem right, and I’m at a loss for what to say. How can I be so clueless? Maybe I should listen more to Sebastian and Logan when they talk about their women. I’ve never been in this position before, because I never got close enough to a woman for her to show me her vulnerable side.
Hand me any situation at the office, I can handle it. Emilia hurting in my arms? Zero solutions come to my mind, and that better change fast. My girl is a mess, trembling in my arms. Her pain is so raw I can almost feel it.
“Thank you for telling her that you’ll take care of….” Her words fade as small sobs take over. “It calmed her down.”
One of her hands is on my chest, and I clasp my fingers around her wrist.
“Now I need you to calm down, Emilia. You’re so brave.”
“Doing what you have to do isn’t brave.”
I pull her even closer to me, running my hand up and down her back, but it’s not helping. Her next words tumble out unintelligibly. “I’m so afraid of losing her, and—”
“Emilia!” With my thumb, I tip her chin up until she has no choice but to look at me. She inhales sharply, and I slide my thumb over her lower lip, tracing the contour of her mouth from one end to the other.
Feeling her soft, plump lip under the pad of my thumb sends a jolt right through my groin. She opens her mouth infinitesimally. For a split second, both of us stay stock-still. And then I kiss her. Jesus. Her mouth is exquisite. Her lips are full and sweet, and she opens them up for me without reservation. She lets out a low, delicious moan when I slip my tongue inside, claiming her warm, sweet mouth, exploring it. Our tongues intertwine, and I take control, commanding the kiss. In this moment, nothing else exists except this woman. I need more of her. I want more—everything. I move my hand, which was on her waist, up to her chest and groan when I discover she’s not wearing a bra. I cup one breast over the fabric, and her nipple turns to a pebble in my hand. She rewards me with the most delicious moan. I instantly turn rock-hard for her, and pull her closer to me, needing to touch every part of her. She shifts around, hiking one leg over me, straddling me, and putting both her breasts right where I can touch them. Like a man possessed, I lightly twist one of her nipples through the material of her dress. A crazy thought takes shape into my mind. This woman is mine, and I won’t let her go.
She moans against my mouth, fisting my shirt, pressing her center against my erection. We groan in each other’s mouths. It takes every fiber in my body not to push the dress up her waist and rip away her panties. I pull away from her just before losing my last shreds of decency. Emilia buries her head in my neck, and feeling her hot breath on my skin isn’t helping. At all. She fists my shirt with both her hands. I thread my fingers in her hair, not ready to let her go, to let the moment end.
“Tell me one thing,” I say in her ear, enjoying the way goose bumps form on her arms. “Just one.”
“What?”
“Are you wet for me?”
“Oh.” She tightens her fists, pulling at my shirt. “Yes. I am, Max. I really am.”
My control damn near snaps, but she smartly pulls away, moving to my left on the couch.
“This was the only thing that occurred to me to calm you down,” I say honestly.
She chuckles. “Funny, I thought the same in the elevator. Dirty minds think alike.”
I can’t take my eyes off her lips. They’re swollen from the kiss, and all I can think about is kissing them again. As if sensing danger, she shifts further away from me.
“You think this space is enough to keep me from you?”
She sighs, her expression growing serious. Guilt gnaws at me.
“I’m sorry,” I offer.
“I know you,” she says lightly. “You’re not sorry at all.”
“Damn you, Jonesie, I was trying to say the right thing.” After a brief but charged pause, I add, “Are you sorry?”
“I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Max. I—”
“I crossed the line.”
“I didn’t exactly stop you.” She smiles, but my insides constrict because I want this, and at the same time, I don’t want to want this. I try to read her body language. Her shoulders are straight and tense, and desire glints in her eyes. A slight tremor still runs through her body. “I’m not good with romantic relationships.”
