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I’m sure as hell not good enough for her.
I’m surprised when she knocks on the door to the suite.
There’s still a part of me that thinks she won’t show up, maybe it’s the part of me that knows she shouldn’t show up here. Even though I want her to, and I really do.
It’s a constant game of tug of war in my head, one side of me living in the now and throwing consequences to the wind. The other, the logical side, telling me to stop, to run. This is all going to end badly.
There’s no happy ending for me, so I should tell her to go.
But I’m not going to do that, I’m going to fucking drag her down with me.
Maybe that makes me a monster.
I feel my lips part and a small rush of air leaves them when Gemma walks into the suite. Most of her smooth long tanned legs are exposed in her pair of short denim shorts. She has on a plain black t-shirt that’s tucked in, but nothing about the outfit feels plain.
She looks extraordinary.
Her fingers raise to sweep her long dark hair over her shoulder and her perfect heart shaped lips lift into a soft smile.
“Hi.” Her voice is soft and delicate as she greets me.
I want her to fuck her immediately, but I want every second of this weekend to last, and for more than just sex, I want to get to know this woman.
I must be losing my fucking mind because I’ve never had a thought like that.
“Hi.” I reply, sounding hoarse and breathy. I grab the overnight bag from her shoulder and set it gently on the dresser, when I turn back to her she’s only made it a few steps into the room, letting the door close behind her.
I know I’m staring at her, but I want to take in every inch of her because I want to remember this moment. I want it etched into my mind so permanently that I can never forget her.
The shape of her face, the curves of her breasts and waist. The way she shifts herself from side to side and the way her fingers tangle in her hair. She wears several rings, more than one on some fingers. Her lips are painted a cherry, glossy color, her lashes are long and dark and when she looks up at me through them, my heart beats faster.
She extracts something from my heart that I don’t know the name of.
My father taught me many things in life. How to lie, cheat, and kill. But he never taught me what this feeling is.
No one has.
“Hey,” she says softly, moving herself closer to me and placing a delicate hand onto my forearm. “Where are you?” There’s a lilt to her voice and she has a slight smile.
“Just taking you in.”
Her smile only grows and her brown eyes latch onto mine.
She’s light and happy, but this feels serious, like the next move we make will change everything.
“There’s no going back from here,” she whispers, and I swear it’s like she can read my thoughts.
“No,” I tell her. “There’s not.”
“I don’t know if I want to.” She presses her body closer to me and I wrap my arms around her, letting myself take in her sweet scent of roses and vanilla.
I close my eyes and lose myself in the smell of her and the feeling of her body pressed against mine. I add these thoughts to my Gemma memory file so I don’t forget this feeling of her here with me.
“Gemma,” I whisper.
“Yeah?” She looks up at me through those dark lashes.
“What are we doing?” I mimic her question from the weekend before.
