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I gave it over, hoping our fingers would brush or she would hold my stare or something, anything to show me she was feeling it too. Instead, she snatched it and walked over to her desk.
I trailed after her. Her spine was straight, her shoulders back, and she held her head high as she slipped into the chair behind the desk. The sun was bright through the windows, and a vibrant patchwork of yellow and white clouds sprinkled the sky, bathing the room in autumn light.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I stood, wanting her to look at me. We were finally here. Alone, sharing the same space, breathing the same air again. I desperately wanted to know if she’d been as frantic as I was. This pain was a weight dragging me down, hope suppressed by the fear that she would ignore me like this from now on. Even if I had no reason to come to her office, I’d still see her at parties. I had to remind myself that I would be part of her life, even if she refused to acknowledge me.
“Sit down, Max.”
“Can we talk?”
When lightning was firing around us like this, I didn’t want to mess around and pretend nothing was there. She had dropped bombs on me in the glasshouse, and I needed the whole story. We had so much to go over.
I didn’t care about the prenup or my wedding or anything else that stopped me from being with her. I needed to know she felt the same. I had to hear from her own lips that I hadn’t imagined the heat in her eyes or her soft moans as she took me by the throat and felt my cock against her thigh.
“I said sit down.” her voice crackled, warning me to behave, none of the refined grace I had seen before.
The way she refused to drop my gaze made me sure she felt this too.
I lowered myself into the same chair, taking the same position as last time, my legs spread out, my body relaxed, even though I was ready to jump to action if she said the word.
The meeting crawled along. She kept her eyes glued to the pages I’d handed her, questioning every minimal change even though I’d told her both Bunny’s and Clutch’s lawyers had checked it.
Her quick breaths, the tension in her lips, the stiff way she held herself… I wanted to think she was building to a tipping point, where all I had to do was make one move to break through the tension, but I couldn’t be sure.
By the end of the meeting, I was itching to leap across the table and make her look at me. It was a loss not to feel her gaze. I deeply craved that stare packed with contempt, the anger that sparked this pressure between us.
She shifted in her chair, crossing and uncrossing her legs, moving her hips, and curving her spine. I liked to imagine it was to fight how unfulfilled she felt without me inside her.
Cat was keeping herself contained, but it was building again. I wanted her to burst, but so far, she had stayed restrained. I wanted the Cat who poured herself into me in the glasshouse, bearing down on me like my angel on the Day of Judgement.
She cleared her throat. “That’s all I have to ask. You need to sign here to confirm the changes. I’ll have copies sent to you and Bunny.” She was so cold and clear.
Then, nothing. She pushed the paper across the desk, fishing a pen from the pot on her right. I thought about grabbing her hand as she passed it over, taking a risk by touching her.
I leant forward, the still tender muscle of my neck aching as I stretched. She must have noticed I was covering it up. It was too hard to miss, even in autumn.
I scribbled my signature, cementing my future. I tried to imagine life married to Bunny, following the path set out for me, but I kept drawing a blank. There was nothing for me there. My story with Cat needed to move faster. It couldn’t just end with this meeting.
I watched her as I sat back. She was still, silent, avoiding my gaze while maybe trying to find something to say, but I got there first.
“Do you want to see them?” my voice was low, almost a whisper.
She stiffened. Her head shot up, her eyebrows clenched in a scowl as I fingered the heavy scarf wrapped around my throat. I edged my finger between the scarf and my neck and tugged. Excitement replaced the thick tension. She clenched her hands, her shoulders firm, running her tongue over her teeth, drawing in a quick breath.
“Do you want to see what you did to me?”
Cat
Silence blanketed the room as I lifted my eyes to meet his. His hand crept towards his stupid scarf, looping a finger over the edge, and tugging it free.
I held my breath as he pulled the last of it away, exposing his throat and the gorgeous landscape of greens and yellows slashed by red pillars still bright against his skin. The moment he walked through my door, I wanted to rip that scarf off him. I hated that he had to hide them, hide what I’d done to him. It was necessary, but I wanted to see the evidence.
Rising, the papers forgotten, I rounded the desk. He edged forward, gripping the arms of the chair to stand, but I wanted him beneath me. I pushed his shoulder, keeping him down. Crooking a finger, I notched it under his chin, tilting his head back to get a better look at the damage.
I tried to ignore the way Max watched me, those heavy eyes always lined with kohl, his bottom lip dropping in anticipation. It had been a long time since I’d seen him dressed so casually. All the images of Clutch always had them sexed up in leather and chains.
I’d told myself I wouldn’t do this. I was Bunny’s friend first, and I was trying to remember that, telling myself she’d never forgive me if she found out. But the voice was drowned out the moment he gave me the chance, and I couldn’t resist. Just touching him again was a rush.
I turned his head, in awe of how the beautiful green smudges of bruises left by my fingertips chased his neck like waves of grassy hills.
