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“Why?” Theo says, her voice still low and husky, sending shivers across my skin. “Because it’s already hard enough to behave myself when I’m only imagining what’s under those clothes?”
She lets her eyes roam up and down my body. For the first time in my life, I think I might be blushing.
I grunt, “That doesn’t seem fair. You’ve seen me all the way naked, and I’ve only seen you mostly naked.”
“I never sawyounaked.”
“It’s the same.”
“You promise?” Theo says.
She’s giving me a look that is nothing like the looks that came before. This is a whole other Theo—heavy eyes, hungry gaze… If not for that seatbelt across her chest, she looks like she’d dive across the seats and devour me.
Maybe I shouldn’t be quite so mad at Reese.
I’ll admit, there was a part of that scene that was pretty fucking hot. Roman Reese had his priestess bent over, taking her from behind. The girl was pretty enough, but I hadn’t paid much attention to her until that moment, when I realized she looked a bit like Theo. Not in the face, but from the rear view…there was some definite similarity. And Reese, of course, looked almost exactly like me.
I didn’t feel turned on at the time, steeped in rage and humiliation, but now that scene flashes through my brain. Theo’s giving me her ravenous stare, and I’m remembering the very real glimpses I’ve gotten of her naked body, the taste of her mouth, the feel of her skin. It all swirls around my head, mixed up with graphic images of what we might look like fucking.
But we can’t fuck.
I promised Theo I’d stop trying, promised her I’d stop even thinking about it.
I shouldn’t have made that second promise—it’s damn near impossible. But I can at least keep the first one.
So even though everything inside of me is pulled toward the gravity on the other side of the car, though all I want is to flirt back with Theo, put my hand on her thigh, kiss her at the next light, even…I keep my eyes fixed on the road and turn the music on instead.
I say, “Thanks for talking me down off the ledge. I really don’t want to ruin this for Reese.”
“I know you don’t.” Theo shifts so she’s facing forward now, too.
She says it softly, lightly, but there’s a hint of disappointment.
I can’t look at her to confirm. Can’t look at her at all because my self-restraint is shredded.
Even facing forward, I can still smell her perfume. I can hear her soft breathing. I can feel every time she moves.
A thousand invisible threads seem to connect us all over, so every moment she’s tugging at me.
We’re quiet the rest of the drive home, but my mind isn’t quiet. It’s screaming at me to say something, do something, satisfy this want, even if all I can do is put my hand on her knee to give myself a taste of that butter-soft skin…
Keeping my hands to myself is torture.
I don’t know what Theo’s thinking. She’s withdrawn and almost seems upset.
When I pull into the driveway, she goes right into the house without waiting for me, without looking back.
I let her go because I’m exhausted with the effort of concealing my feelings and resisting what I want. I’m low andmiserable, wondering how I got myself in this mess. A month ago, my plan seemed brilliant. Now it seems devised by my worst enemy.
I pause outside Theo’s closed door, wondering if I should knock. But what would I say?
I imagine the conversation:
I’m sorry I was so upset.
I’m sorry I can’t keep my hands off you.
I’m sorry I’m going to kiss you again right now…
