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I forgot how to ignore the fascination and compulsions of my brain.
I regressed enough that images of sex and nakedness and pleasure were more than just a temptation but an outright desperation.
My fingers clutched at the stolen-donated diamond. I struggled to understand the truth. To guess how she was truly feeling. Why she was softer and quieter in the way she studied me? Why did her eyes glow with conviction as well as hesitation?
It was as if she’d come to some conclusion while we were apart—a conclusion I didn’t know and couldn’t ask for.
My hands trembled as I shoved the heavy rock into my pants pocket then pulled out the box from my blazer. She’d given me a diamond on my request. She’d given me everything I ever fucking wanted, and it still wasn’t enough.
The guilt would eat me alive if I waited another minute.
I had to give her something to balance the scales in my deformed brain and fight the overbearing lust quickly turning into wildfire inside me.
I would give her my gift.
I would make tonight equal.
And then I would take her home where tomorrow was a new day with stronger rules and regulations.
Pim looked at me over her shoulder as her fingers trailed over the polished lacquer of a nesting table, glided around marble busts of men long since deceased, and touched ancient easels with half-finished needlepoint. She never took her eyes off me as she floated around the room, staring in a dare, in acknowledgement, in agreement that everything we’d been running from had found us here.
Somehow, there was no more road, no more avoiding the crushing weight of seduction.
She knew it.
I knew it.
I didn’t understand how it’d happened.
Why here, why now?
What was the catalyst to this suddenly heavy, heady invitation to forget, to let go, to be free?
No.
Shaking my head, I tore my gaze from hers.
That wasn’t what this was about.
This was about balancing our relationship.
She’d given me something. Therefore, I had to give her something.
I had every intention of preventing the rampaging, quickening desire from making me do something we’d both regret.
The box creaked in my hands as I gripped it hard. All I needed to do was give her this so we were even. So she wasn’t in my debt for stealing me the diamond. So I wasn’t in her debt for all the pieces I’d stolen this far.
A gift given purely because she was the most beautiful creature on earth.
Without a word, she settled on the inviting couch.
Her dress billowed around her, filling the room with the soft rustle of satin. The multi-coloured paisley print clashed with her bruised gown, making it seem like she’d turned joy into torment.
I wanted to stay on my side of the room. I wanted walls between us and chains around me. But I had to trust I had self-control. To be human long enough to ignore the body-breaking desire and get her back on the Phantom where she belonged.
Swallowing hard, I moved stiffly toward her. With aching joints from denying what I truly wanted, I sat slowly on the couch. It enveloped me, cradling us both, the age-worn cushions compacting together so our knees touched and gravity tried to sprawl us onto one another.
Christ, touching her…even with miles of dress between us was enough to make me shatter.
We locked eyes but didn’t say a word.
We both fought to stay sitting and not give up on the rules we’d wrapped ourselves in. I desperately wanted to kiss her.
She licked her lips, her gaze latching onto my mouth.
I swallowed a groan as everything else faded. Nothing else had the same weight or importance as kissing her.
It was everything.
Kiss her.
I swayed closer.
She breathed quicker.
My heart burned with need.
Kiss her…
Fuck, it was the hardest thing I’d ever done—hovering in that tingling magic of an almost-kiss.
Kiss her…
I can’t.
It took everything in me, it cost every pain, but I pulled back. The way my moods were tonight, I couldn’t guarantee I could stop at one kiss.
I know I can’t.
One kiss would turn to two.
Two would turn to ten.
Ten would turn to me inside her and every rule snapped and broken.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, counting my breaths, focusing on my heartbeat.
Most of the evening, I’d focused on things I could control. Counting the drapes, the mosaics on the floor, the champagne glasses discarded around the room. Little tricks I’d long since mastered to stay sane.
Counting wouldn’t help me now.
Nothing could help me.
The box.
Give her the box.
Even that didn’t offer the same safety as it once did.
Shit, I should’ve stayed standing. I should’ve thrown it to her from across the room.
Silence stretched, growing thicker by the second as I pushed the long rectangle from my lap and onto hers. I ripped my hand back before I could crush her dress in my fingers and hoist it high. Before I could strip her bare and take her. “Open it.”
