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I almost roar, I don’t want anybody else. Just you, Faye.
“Anyway,” I go on. “I might abandon the project.”
“What?” she says sharply. “Why? You said it yourself. You don’t question where your ideas come from. I was joking, Felix. Nobody will think that.”
But you might.
And that’s all that matters.
“Where’s the work you’ve done so far?” she asks a moment later.
I smirk. “Why do you care about this project so much?”
She answers with gorgeous sincerity in her tone, looking at me steadily. “Because I respect your work. I never knew that’s how you got your ideas. If I can help, I will. I’ll even organize it, search for the models.”
“Really?” I say, and that just seals it right there.
If she’s willing to parade models in front of me, there’s no way she feels the same.
There’s no way she wants me how I want her.
She frowns for a moment, her eyes flitting to the floor, staring at it as she answers me. “I want to help however I can. I wouldn’t let it interfere with my other work. But only if you want me to.”
“Sure,” I whisper, knowing this is the end.
I have to kill this part of me now.
The part that wants her needs her and hungers for her.
But the problem is, it’s not just one part.
It’s all of me, every single piece.
It was never going to work. I need to live in the real world.
“Okay. I’ll email you the locations I’ve scouted so far and my notes.”
“Sounds good,” she says. “I’ll get back to it.”
“All right.”
She turns and leaves.
There’s so much else I want to say as I watch her go, but I couldn’t, even if it wouldn’t break Lola’s heart when she found out. Speech is impossible as I gaze at her full gorgeous ass in the black skirt, the fabric clinging onto her tightly, as if begging for my hands.
Once she’s left the office, I sit back in my chair, gripping the edge of the desk and trying to calm myself down.
I want her so badly it hurts.
Her body, heart, soul, life, and future. I want all of it, all of her.
But there’s the proof if I needed it, the motivation to end this here. She’s going to be searching for other women for me to photograph, almost naked.
She wouldn’t have offered if there was any desire there.
But she obviously doesn’t feel the same.
How could she?
