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“Uh-huh.”
I slide my hand down to her waist and continue my exploration of the long expanse of her neck. Dangerous, this. But my body is in control now, my stomach tightening with need.
“Victor,” she murmurs.
“Yes.”
She twists on the bench and I kiss her. Her lips are soft and pliable beneath mine. She tastes minty from toothpaste, fresh and warm and irresistible.
Her hands come up around my neck. I’m sweaty, but so is she, and we’d probably break a sweat in bed together anyway. Hell, if Myers is as feisty there as she had been negotiating our marriage, it’s guaranteed.
I slip my tongue between her lips and she sighs, deepening the kiss in response. The sound goes straight through me and I feel my body responding, need sharp in my lower body.
I hadn’t lied to her. It had been a long time.
I pull her into standing and she follows me fluidly, the length of her body pressed against mine. Finally, I think, and slide my hand down to cup her ass through her workout tights. The ass I only noticed a few months ago, but that has taunted me every single time she’s worn these tights around the apartment.
“Victor,” she says again, and I like it. Want her purring my name in all kinds of ways.
“Yes?”
“What are we doing here?”
“Does it matter?” I tug her tight against my body and let her feel just how much I need this. “We can do whatever we like.”
“Mmm.” Her lips return to mine and I wonder if we can do it right here, right now, and indulge in a different kind of exercise.
Then her hand slips down my neck and strokes the spot through my T-shirt where the diagonal scar starts. “I’m sorry about this,” she murmurs against my lips.
“It was a long time ago.”And not something I want to talk about right now, not when I’m gripping your ass and your mouth is on mine.
Happy place, right here.
“Will you tell me how it happened?”
I press another kiss to her lips before I lift my head. It hurts to pull my hands away from her, and I know I’ll have to take a cold shower or use my right hand before I’ll get any work done today. “I’m keeping you from your workout,” I say.
Her swollen lips shift into a frown, and I turn, not wanting to see that I’d put it there. “Victor… I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s okay.”
“Come back,” she whispers.
I sling my towel over my shoulder. The one I should have used to wipe my face instead of my T-shirt, and all this would have been avoided. “I should shower. Tomorrow evening, though.”
“Tomorrow evening,” she repeats.
I shut the gym door behind me and leave the heady smell of bodies and want. The rest of my apartment is in order, clean and fresh and quiet. It’s like a balm across my feverish senses, even if it doesn’t ease the aching length between my legs. What have I set in motion here?
15
Cecilia
My arm is through Victor’s, and with every step we take, my body reminds me of that fact. He’d offered it casually, like we do this all the time. Like we’re a couple. The scent of his cologne and his steady presence are as distracting as the grandeur of the opera house we’re approaching.
Victor gives our name to the attendant by the vaulted entrance. “The St. Clairs,” he says.
Tonight’s another night to show a strong united front, to flaunt the success of our marriage. He’d warned me that one or more of his business partners might be here tonight.
