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I reach up, touch her hand, and press it more firmly against my chest, so my heart beats right against her palm.
“This is how crazy you make me,” I tell her.
We stay like that until we hear somebody walking down the hallway, and then we separate. We watch each other the whole time they pass, our need evident in every single movement, every gesture, our beings trying to force us closer.
“After you,” I say. “Before you give me any savage ideas.”
“Maybe I want that,” she says, then walks ahead of me, moving her hips.
“Are you doing that on purpose?”
She looks over her shoulder. “Maybe. Do you…,” she pauses as if her nerves are going to win. “Like it?”
“Maybe I do,” I say fiercely.
She smiles, then a frown touches her lips.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing,” she replies.
I step closer. “Tell me.”
“I never should’ve looked,” she says. “But I still want to know. I’ve got no right to ask, but us, Silas….”
She shudders, shaking her head. “I need to learn to keep my stupid mouth shut.”
“No,” I snap. “Never say that. Not with me. We….”
…were made for each other.
“Can talk,” I go on, stilted. “You don’t have to hide how you feel from me. Let’s go meet Giorgia, then I’ll explain. But I have to admit. It’ll be hard. I’ve never told anybody before.”
“Really?” she says.
“You’ll be the first,” I tell her.
What I don’t add is this story is so precious to me, so secret, I’ve never even told my best friend—her dad.
As I lead her through the studio, I wonder if I’ve got it in me to go back there, caged, terrified, to explain all the agony that made me who I am.
But the alternative is worse.
It would mean letting my woman assume there’s somebody else who could challenge her and even come close when that could never be the case.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Lauren
I attempt to calm my inner lust as I bring the needle to his back, trying to summon the focus which has helped me with my clients this past week.
It doesn’t help that my nerves are still alight from meeting Giorgia Bianchi.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he replies. “For the tattoo. And to tell you.”
He lowers his voice as he goes on, not reacting when the buzzing needle makes contact with his skin.
