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“Come to me, when you are finished here.”
Oh, she wanted to. How she wanted to.
He was so confident that he didn’t wait for her answer.
He knew she would come.
That her body needed his as his needed hers.
But he was wro
ng.
She didn’t come.
For the remainder of the night, he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, straining to hear the soft footfalls that would herald her return. Her sweet scent lingered in his bed linen. Her taste was in his mouth. And the handcuffs she’d worn, he held in his hands, fingering the cold metal, wondering if she had enjoyed being prisoner to their desires as much as he had.
By the time the soft light of dawn broke through the window, a cold stone of anger had lodged in his chest.
Loucas Aleksandros did not make offers unless he knew they would be accepted.
He did not throw himself at a woman’s feet, only to be rejected.
* * *
“I just don’t like the way he looks at you,” Bobby muttered, wiping his forehead with a towel. They jogged together most mornings, and this morning, Mikey had been in more need of the exercise than usual. Her body felt electrified. It was as though a switch had been flicked and now she seemed to only operate on this higher frequency. Everything looked brighter and more vibrant. Even the air seemed to glisten with promise.
And it was all because of Loucas.
It was a dangerous attraction, one she knew she needed to fight. He was too much for her. He was dominant in every way, and her natural spark became pliant and submissive, because he made her feel so good. That terrified her.
She flipped the top on her water bottle and sipped thirstily. “Bobby,” she implored, because he had been bringing Loucas into conversation at every opportunity. “You’ve said it before. I know how you feel. Let’s just… Please don’t.”
“I care about you, Mikey. I consider you to be a friend.” He paused. They both knew he thought of her as more, but he let it slide. “That guy can’t take his eyes off you. It makes me uncomfortable.”
It made Mikey conversely thrilled. She struggled not to reveal that fact to her friend.
“He obviously thinks he has some claim to you. Look at the way he drove me out of the room last night,” he persisted, ignoring her obvious desire to not discuss Loucas.
“He was concerned for Andy,” she lied.
“He was jealous of me, and you, and our friendship. He’s got to call the shots, or he’s not happy.”
He had a point. She dipped her head, remembering how he’d called the shots with her in his bed. Her body shivered. Her blood boiled. Desire, dark and deep, ignited inside of her.
“How can you still talk after that run?” She changed the subject, tossing her water bottle onto the grass at their feet and slamming her hands on her hips. The ocean stretched before them like a postcard. She stared at it, trying to get her breathing back under control.
“My legs are almost twice as long as yours, Mikey,” Bobby grinned. “Though yours are decidedly nicer to look at.”
She blushed, wishing she’d worn her full length running tights instead of the cropped shorts she’d grabbed out of the drawer first. “I think we did our best time yet. Did you clock it?”
He looked down at his smart phone. “Yeah, you’re right. I could see us running the New York marathon at this rate.”
She laughed. “You, maybe. Five miles is the limit of my athletic skills, I assure you.”
“Shame,” he said. “You’re a good runner.”
“I don’t really like it though.”
