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His deep green eyes soften at the same time he whispers, “There she is.”
“What do you mean?”
He smiles weakly before dropping his head forward and shaking it. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I take the bet.”
When he looks at me again, it’s with a sadness that I feel down to my bones. Without the right words to say, I feel like a failure. The light mood we just created has been snuffed out by that damn darkness. But instead of grappling for it like a helpless fool, I let it go with the plan of finding it again tonight.
“I’m going to get dressed. Give me ten minutes?”
“Sure. I’ll be in the waiting room.”
I offer him a smile, and he returns it with a weak one before leaving me alone in the room, a dress in my hands and a yearning for him that I can’t soothe.
21
MADDOX
Hidinga boner in the middle of a busy waiting room isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.
Braxton has me hard enough I fucking ache, and all from some harmless banter. I blow air out my nose and spread my legs as far as they’ll go in the chair I’m sitting on and lean forward, covering the mountain in my pants with my forearms.
Several sets of curious eyes fall on me before quickly flicking away, and I do my best to smile pleasantly at a few people. After a few minutes of awkward silence and forced smiles, my leg starts to tap, and I check my watch again.
Five minutes feels like fifty.
Pushing out of the seat, I walk around the front desk and down the hallway back to Braxton’s office. The door is still shut, so I lean against the wall to wait. A dim, quiet hallway is better than out there, being watched like an animal in a zoo.
I fiddle with the buttons on my shirt, undoing one just to do it back up again. The tattoos that paint my chest flash each time I undo the button, and I stare down at the corner of the one I do my best to keep hidden. From everyone, myself included. I cautiously circle the tip of it with my thumb and close my eyes tight at the pain that grows with each second I focus on the design. On the memory forever etched on my skin.
The sound of the door clicking has me quickly doing up the button, tucking the design away again.
As I look up, my lungs pull in tight, painfully. I swallow, but my throat is dry.
“Is it too much? Not enough? Be honest.”
Braxton runs frantic hands down her body, and I follow their tracks eagerly. My fingers twitch, wanting to take over for hers and touch her all over. Beautiful feels like an insult. It’s not enough.
Barely tamed curls, shiny pink lips, fluttering black lashes. The deep green dress hugs her body like it was made for her, and for the first time in my life, I’m jealous of a piece of clothing. All the way down to the pair of dirty, well-worn sneakers, she’s a vision. And she’s mine.
For tonight, she’s mine.
It hurts to breathe, like my chest is too tight to expand for a full breath. I rub at my mouth, at the start of a playoff beard, and mutter a quiet “Fuck me.”
Her brows furrow, and she twists her mouth. “That bad? Crap. I didn’t bring a backup outfit.”
I push off the wall, take a step toward her, then abruptly stop. Huffing out a breath, I stare at her puffy lips as they untwist.
“No. You’re perfect,” I say roughly.
Colour fills her cheeks as her teeth sink into her bottom lip. My cock throbs, and I reach down to adjust it in my pants, not thinking twice about it. She watches me do it, eyes hot with desire, and fuck if that doesn’t make me even harder.
“We need to go,” I rasp.
She nods slowly, distractedly, until finally, her eyes travel up my body and find mine again. “We do.”
Fuck it all to hell, but I want her right here, right now. No amount of inner scolding or self-preservation can convince me otherwise. Time changed so much between us, but it didn’t touch how desperately I want her. If anything, it’s only made it worse, that much more intense.
I feel like I could drown in her presence. Like I can’t breathe unless she says I can.
