Chapter Sixteen
The cab comes to a stop on Columbus, idling while Jeremy insists on paying, and I mutter about taking an Uber next time. He steps out after me, an eyebrow rising as his gaze sweeps past me to the brown-paneled building ahead of us.
“ Burn? ”
Jeremy stills a few feet from me, and I smile, taking note of his awkward stance, his hands hanging by his sides, unsure of what to do with them. I loop my arm in his, pulling him with me toward the fitness center.
“ Well, you wanted to know how I stay so fit, and you assured me you ’ re feeling fine.”
“ I was sick a week ago, Viv. I ’ m more than fine.” He clears his throat. “ Thanks to you.”
“ Yeah, well. Like I said, I like the competition.”
“ So you say. Tell me, then, what are we competing at tonight?”
“ You ’ ll see. I ’ m going to test just how fine you are. You may regret wanting to tag along so badly.”
He chuckles and shakes his head, following me through the door, the bell at the top tinkling as we enter.
“ Never judge a book by its shop front, eh?” His eyes widen, taking in the chic space with its white linen chairs, glass table, and gray marble floor tiles, a mismatch to the plain exterior.
“ Welcome to Burn Fitness.” We ’ re greeted by a petite blonde.
“ Hey, we ’ re here for Lisa ’ s class. ”
“ Ah, the bo—”
“ Yep!” I blurt out, cutting her off before she can send Jeremy running out the door. Jeremy shoots me a sideways glance, clearly noticing, and the receptionist grins. “ Has it started yet?”
“ No, you ’ re just in time. Warm-up ends in five minutes.”
“ Warm-up? ” Jeremy asks in my ear as we ’ re led past the frosted glass wall to the dance studio-like space.
It ’ s quite a compact area, with high ceilings seemingly two stories tall and a massive chandelier in the center. The room appears much larger for it. Polished pale floorboards, a mirrored wall on the right, and exercise equipment—bikes, rowers, mats, etc., all stored at the back of the room—finish off the studio. It ’ s a one-room fitness center with some of the best classes in Boston and one of my favorite guilt-free pleasures.
Bollyx!
It ’ s Bollywood meets cardio with a crazy side of Zumba. It ’ s a little intense, and you sweat from start to finish, but it ’ s a boatload of fun.
“ What are you getting me into?” Jeremy asks, removing his outer clothes to reveal his usual gear of a black tank and gray sweat shorts.
“ Oh, you wouldn ’ t believe me if I told you. It ’ s one of the best exercise routines in town. Trust me, you ’ re going to love it.”
“ Why do I get the feeling that won ’ t be the case?”
“ You doubt me? I ’ m bereft. ” I titter to myself. “ But I recommend warming up everything.”
“ Everything?”
“ Every. Thing.”
I bite my bottom lip to stifle the laugh bubbling up at Jeremy ’ s horrified grimace. His lips thin as he stretches his arms first, his forehead pulling down so low he creates a monobrow. The worry on his face is totally warranted. I ’ m hit with a tiny pang of regret for bringing him. I hope this doesn ’ t kill him.
“ Jeremy…”
“ Vivienne? ”
“ Don ’ t die on me, okay?”
“ God, is it that bad?”
“ No, no. Well, if you go too hard , maybe. Just don ’ t go hard.”
“ Words I never thought I ’ d hear coming out of your mouth.” His salacious grin makes me scoff, easing my momentary lapse of remorse.
“ I take it back.”
He laughs. “ Gee, Viv. If I didn ’ t know any better, I ’ d think you were concerned, going soft even. It ’ s heartwarming, really, and maybe about time.”
“ About time? Please. I just don ’ t wanna have to tell your dad I killed you—” Totally the wrong thing to say, ugh! “ And so what if I ’ d miss you? That ’ s hardly a feeling. If anything , it ’ s just selfish, really. Who would I torment then?”
His only response is to raise an eyebrow.
“Hi ladies, and, err, gent,” Lisa says with a wink at Jeremy as she enters the room. “ Let ’ s get this party started!”
Somewhat surprisingly, he is the only man in class tonight. She walks over to the sound machine and turns on our soundtrack for the night. The speakers blast to life seconds later with an unmistakable theme, and Jeremy ’ s eyebrows pull tight, then shoot skyward, getting lost under his hair.
“ Is that…it ’ s not… ? ” I fight a grin, playing oblivious. “ Vivienne, what the hell are you subjecting me to?”
“ A good time?”
He frowns, narrowing his eyes at me. “ I ’ m pretty sure this isn ’ t what you ’ d normally call a good time, and I ’ m almost positive this isn ’ t going to be what I call a good time.”
“ You ’ re right. We should hit the road and combine both our good times. You supply the alcohol, I ’ ll supply the body?”
He says nothing, his lip twitching as Lisa takes her spot in front of the mirrored wall and gets into position. Her arms are out to one side of her body, her legs and feet slightly apart. She looks a bit ridiculous, but I ’ m used to this. Jeremy, on the other hand, looks mildly alarmed.
“ We have a few fresh faces, which is great to see, so welcome to Bollyx.”
I feel Jeremy stiffen beside me, and I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, four seconds from bursting into a fit of laughter.
“ And I hope you survive the ride.” She chuckles, as do most of the regulars.
“ Bollyx? ” Jeremy whisper-shouts. “ You ’ ve got to be kidding me. We ’ re doing Bollywood dancing? Seriously?”
“ Seriously.” I smile, finally looking Jeremy in the eyes, mine no doubt a bright blaze, his resigned.
“ You should have left me to die,” he mutters.
“ As this is fast-paced,” Lisa continues, “ but repetitive, there will be few instructions. Everything runs on a loop, so to speak, until the end when it ’ s all combined.You ’ ll pick it up quick enough for the most part. Just try to have some fun, and let your crazy fly. Let ’ s go!”
“ Some days, I think you hate me. That you get some sick pleasure out of torturing me.”
“ Oh, you ’ re not wrong there. But I can ’ t hate you. You ’ re too much fun to play with.”
“ Right.”
“ Now shush and try to keep up.”
He doesn ’ t say a word , but shakes his head . Either resigned or genuinely annoyed, it ’ s hard to tell. I ’ ve only ever seen him mad once. Every other time I ’ ve been around Jeremy, he ’ s been lighthearted and juvenile. He takes my antics in stride, though, and after a good twenty-five minutes to get a feel for it, he ’ s screwing in the light bulbs and turning on the taps with the rest of us. His arms stop flailing like he ’ s drowning, and his face relaxes the grimace he ’ s been stuck on since we started. By the time we get to the end, the big grand finale, I ’ m willing to bet he ’ s actually enjoying himself.
“ Are you all ready? This is it, so make it count,” Lisa booms above the music as the tune reaches fever pitch.
“ Y ’ all ready for this?” Jeremy shouts in my ear, and my laughter threatens to take over the music.
I ’ m unsure if he ’ s referencing Space Jam or Bring It On. Both fitting and damn funny all the same.
We get into position, side by side, spirit fingers at the ready, but I keep twisting to look at him, and he at me, like a couple of silly teens, giggling like schoolgirls. I ’ m having way too much fun for this intense exercise. I should have brought Jeremy sooner. He makes everything better.
I shake myself out of that stupid thought and focus on what we ’ re doing. Of course Jeremy notices my distraction and shoots me a quizzical look, his head cocking to the side while he appraises me. I shake my head at him and stick out my tongue, then nod toward Lisa right before she starts.
A squeal escapes me as I try to get into sync, my fingers twisting and jiggling to the beat as I wave them all about. I turn in the wrong direction, ending up facing Jeremy, making him laugh and miss a step. His lips move in a curse, clearly frustrated at either himself or me , and I snigger . Still keeping pace, but putting a little extra oomph in my movements, really hitting each step, and it doesn ’ t go unnoticed.
Jeremy ’ s gaze narrows on me, and instead of jumping to our left, turning away from each other as we should have, we both jump on the spot. I bite my bottom lip, swallowing the laugh on my lips, and raise an eyebrow in challenge.
It ’ s game on.
We hit it hard, my muscles straining as I push my arms and legs in and out and above. Jeremy ’ s seem to pulse, the veins along his arms rippling and his thighs taut with the effort. I can feel the sweat trickling down my back and along my chest. One particular bead grabs Jeremy ’ s attention, his gaze heating a path as he watches it slide along the curve of my breast and disappear into my sports bra. I look away seconds before his gaze catches mine, but I still feel the intensity of it warming my face.
We finish the last steps, holding for a beat before both collapsing on the floor, panting for breath, our fingertips brushing with the proximity. I ’ m breathless for more reasons than I care to be and fight to ignore the tiny electric shocks that simple caress sends through my hand, but it ’ s an effort I don ’ t have in me.
“ This was something else. You are something else,” Jeremy says, twisting to face me, a funny little twinkle in his eye.
“ I ’ ve tried to tell you, but you never believe me.” An awkward chuckle escapes me. “ You hated it, didn ’ t you?”
“ Surprisingly, no. I find it hard to hate anything when I ’ m with you.”
I laugh at the cheese in that statement. “ For your benefit, I won ’ t make that into a challenge. Though it ’ s real damn tempting, I tell you.”
“ I think I should definitely be grateful for that.” He chuckles, getting to his feet, somewhat gingerly I notice, and sticks out his hand for me.
I take the offered appendage and stifle my groan of protest, my muscles pulling and twinging in all the right places.
“ Did I wear you out, or do you still have another thirty-odd minutes left in the tank?” I ask. He looks at me sideways and narrows his gaze, making me laugh. “ I was talking about a walk, you perv.”
“ Yeah, that ’ s not what I was expecting. Sure, I could do with walking this off.”
“ There is a limit to how much torture I inflict on any one day.”
“ Or you charge extra?”
“ Har dee har har. Just shut up and walk me home, would you?”
“ Lead the way.”
I stop outside my apartment building and pull gently on Jeremy ’ s arm, stalling him.
“ This is me, but I ’ m ravenous. Let me change real quick, and then I ’ ll buy you dinner. I kinda owe you after making you go through that.”
“ Deal, but don ’ t bother changing. You smell fine.”
“ Gee, thanks but—oh, god!”
“ Vivienne! ” Marcus hollers, coming at me with all the speed of an express train as he scoops me up, spinning me in a tight circle before putting me back on my feet.
Fuck. Me. Sideways.
“ What are you doing here? I thought you were still on tour in Seattle?” My heart is racing, for all the wrong reasons.
“ I am. I mean, I was. The last show is next weekend, but I found myself with some free time…” His unspoken words linger between us, and I can practically feel Jeremy turn to stone behind me. The animosity radiating from him is ridiculous. “ Who ’ s your friend, Vee?”
Shit, shit, SHIT!
“ Oh, uh, Marcus, Jeremy. Jeremy, Marcus.” I wave my hand back and forth between them and try not to vomit. This is bad, oh, so bad.
Jeremy ’ s eyes widen to dinner plates.
“ The Marcus? ” He looks at me, his eyes frantically searching my face.
“ The? ” Marcus raises a bemused brow at me, and I pray for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
“ I may have mentioned you in passing.” Like the fucking idiot I am.
“ Is that so?” His obvious delight at that grates on my nerves. Cocky bastard.
“ We were …ah, just getting a bite to eat, so—”
“ Oh, brill, I ’ m starved.” Marcus smiles brightly, clearly ignoring my tone.
I sigh, shaking my head as I walk into my building, the boys hot on my heels.
“ Vivi, love, I thought we were getting some grub.”
“ I need to change first.”
“ Why? Your arse looks great.”
“ When does it not?” I laugh, but wish he ’ d lay off the remarks just this once. “ But maybe we should just stay in. I ’ m sure I ’ ve got something I can whip up.”
“ You, ‘ whip up ’ ? Now this I ’ ve got to see,” Jeremy titters, making Marcus grin like the Cheshire Cat as we get in the elevator.
“ Oh, shut up. I can cook.” I really can ’ t, but whatever.
“ He ’ s got you there, love. The only thing I ’ ve ever seen you ‘ whip up ’ comes in a can.”
Jeremy seems to choke on his laugh, and I want to sock the pair of them. “ You can both bloody starve,” I mutter.
“ We will, if you ’ re cooking,” they both say in unison. Jeremy seems taken aback, whereas Marcus just laughs.
“ Jeremy, is it?”
“ Yeah, that ’ s right.”
“ I like you.”
“ Ah, thanks.”
“ So, how do you know our girl Vee here?”
“ My father was a client.”
Was …shit. The elevator dings, and I shoot Marcus—his face a comical mix of shock and curiosity—a glare, hopefully ending his next line of questioning before I step out.
“ Well, fuck me.” He chuckles. “ I ’ m going to leave that one well alone.”
I sigh, thanking baby cheeses, and unlocking my door, waving the boys in ahead of me, but I don ’ t miss Jeremy ’ s eyes widening as he takes in my opulent entryway.
“ So, yeah. This is me…um, make yourselves at home.”
I ’ m a little nervous. Jeremy knows what I do, obviously, but I don ’ t think he ’ s ever grasped how much I make doing it. If he thought I ’ d emasculated him previously, my lavish place is going to knock him for a loop. Let ’ s hope he takes it in stride , like everything else I throw at him. I don ’ t want to lose him just yet. I ’ m not ready to let go.
“ Hey, Vivi. Can I use your loo? I ’ m busting for a slash.”
I laugh. “ You know where it is.”
Marcus heads for my en suite instead of my main, and Jeremy ’ s forehead crinkles.
“ He ’ s been here before?” Jeremy whispers, incredulous.
“ Yes. I think only once after I moved in here.”
“ I didn ’ t know you kept in touch.”
I shrug, noncommittal. “ I didn ’ t think it was a big deal.” To me, anyway.
“ No, right. It ’ s not a big deal you still see the guy who got you into this…lifestyle.”
“ So, we hang out once in a blue moon.” I shrug again, desperately wanting out of this conversation. “ And besides, it ’ s not Marcus ’ s fault I do what I do . You and I don ’ t talk that much. I mean, it ’ s never really come up.”
“ Yeah, sure, we don ’ t talk that much. Just daily,” he mutters the latter under his breath, and I knew I said the wrong thing as soon as the words left my mouth. Just peachy.
“ Can we drop this, please?” Before I say anything else stupid . “ I need to change. But I ’ ll be back.” I walk off, ending the conversation. “ Just…help yourself to anything.”
I enter my bedroom and try to catch my breath and my equilibrium. Somehow , this evening is going to complete shit, and it ’ s probably all my fault. My minute of respite is short-lived when I bump into Marcus coming out of my en suite. He steadies us, his hands going to my hips, his eyes scorching, and that sexy signature grin of his I ’ ve always loved replaces the surprise. Ah, crap.
“ Well, hello, love. Fancy running into you here,” Marcus says, low and seductive.
“ That should be my line. What are you doing here, Marcus? You never leave a tour. What ’ s going on?”
“ Can ’ t I just come visit for no other reason than I missed you?”
I raise a brow in response.
“ I did miss you, Vivi,” he says softly, his eyes and hands roaming.
Somehow my heart plummets and races at the same time, the erratic beat pulsing in my gut.
“ Marcus…”
He lifts his gaze to my face, a peculiar look overtaking his as he appraises me.
“ I need to change.”
He slowly traces my curves, lingering on some of his favorite parts before he removes his hands.
“ I take it you don ’ t need a hand or two?” I shake my head, unable to say the one little word I ’ ve never had to say to him before. He gives me a small, crooked smile, but it doesn ’ t reach his eyes like it usually would. “ Righto.”
It ’ s not until he leaves and I take a deep breath that I realize I ’ d been holding it. Dejected, I sigh and head to my closet, stripping off my gear pronto, not wanting to leave the boys alone longer than I have to. I don ’ t know what ’ s going on with me. I ’ ve never been able to resist Marcus , I ’ ve never wanted to. But when Jeremy ’ s around, all it takes is one of his boyish grins, and everything around me fades. Everything except him. He ’ s all I see, all I feel lately, and I don ’ t like it. Not one bit.
I rush out of my room to find Marcus rummaging through my cupboards and Jeremy going through my CD collection in the old-school jukebox in the far corner of the room.
“ Nothing but stale crackers and dust in those cupboards, Marcus.”
“ On the contrary, Vivi, love. I ’ ve already found this gourmet basket in one of them.”
True enough; on my kitchen island is a gift basket full of god knows what, from god knows where.
“ Well, I ’ ll be damned,” I mutter , coming closer. “ Parmigiano Reggiano, oh and Riviera Ligure olive oil, extra virgin of course. Damn, this is the good shit.”
“ What ’ s this?” Marcus asks, coming up beside me and pulling out a rectangular tube-like box. “ Trenette? ”
“ It ’ s like linguine. How do you not know that? I must have gotten this from Antony at some point. He ’ s written all over it, but I have no memory of it. This feels imported. It ’ s not your regular run-of-the-mill supermarket crap.”
“ Well, someone ’ s been doing her job right,” Marcus titters, and I whack him in the stomach. “ Ouch. I can definitely whip us up something with this. You got any garlic?”
“ Uhh, maybe?”
“ Check the rest of the basket,” Jeremy adds helpfully, coming to stand on the other side of the counter.
And sure enough, there are bulbs of garlic, chili flakes, sea salt, black, red and white peppercorns. Some wilted basil, thyme, and rosemary sprigs. Stuffed and marinated olives and feta in jars. But I saved the best for last, the stunning Schiaccetrà sweet wine and the dry Cinque Terre. Antony went all out, and by the looks of it, it all comes from the same region—Liguria. His hometown.
I ’ m halfway through texting Antony when I feel Jeremy staring at me. I look up to find him burning a hole in my face and shoot him a raised brow.
“ Nothing.” I glare at him, and his lip curls up.
“ It ’ s an impressive gift, is all.”
“ I ’ m an impressive kinda woman.”
“ Just not in the kitchen,” Marcus interjects behind me with a laugh, forcing me to kick him in the shin. “ Ow! So violent, Vee. So feisty.” The look on his face and the blaze in his eyes make it pretty damn clear he ’ s not just talking about my temper.
I dare not look at Jeremy to confirm he noticed , but ignore them both and finish thanking Antony.
V: Sorry for the late thank you. I only just found the basket in my cupboard. How did it get in my apartment btw?
It takes no time at all for his reply to come through.
A: Your assistant. I had it delivered to her once I returned from my trip. And you ’ re most welcome.
I smile in response. He ’ s so crafty, and I had a feeling it all came from Italy…well, maybe not the herbs.
I look up and catch Jeremy ’ s perturbed expression before he can mask it.
“ What?” I almost snap out, my tone a little sharp.
“ Does everyone have your address and phone number?”
“ What?” My eyes go wide. What a strange question. Jeremy gestures to my phone and the gift basket. “ Oh, no. That came via Laura, and he ’ s the only client with my cell number. It just makes it easier.” I shrug, hoping that ’ s explanation enough. Not that I need one.
“ Right, yeah. Okay.”
“ Anyway, I ’ m starving. What ’ s going on with dinner, Marcus? Are you feeding us or what?”
“ Well, that depends. Is pasta okay?” He looks to Jeremy for a response, not needing one from me.
“ Yeah, fine by me. Viv?”
“ Oh, he knows my love of all things Italian. The starchier the better.” I chuckle, and Jeremy shakes his head.
“ I don ’ t get you sometimes. We sweat our asses off tonight, and you don ’ t even blink at the calories or the carbs.”
“ I blink, just in a food coma ’ d stupor.” I grin, making him chortle.
“ I thought you smelled salty before,” Marcus says, coming up behind me, a little too close—inappropriately close. “ Delicious, as per normal, but sweaty.”
“ Shush,” I say with a well-placed shove, putting some much-needed distance between us. “ I didn ’ t have time to shower.”
He raises his hands in surrender, then picks up a bulb of garlic and tosses it at me. “ Chop a few of them up, will ya?”
I grab a cutting board and a knife, but barely two seconds later, Marcus is bumping me out of the way with his hip.
“ You really are useless in the kitchen, Vivi darling. How ’ bout you try boiling the water?” I glare at him and flip him the bird , but do as I ’ m told. “ Are you guys, like, exercise buddies?” he asks nonchalantly, smashing the cloves with the flat of the blade, but his tone belies his curiosity. He ’ s dying to know who or what Jeremy is to me.
“ Yes—”
“ No,” I say at the same time as Jeremy ’ s resounding yes, “ not really. We run sometimes, and I dragged him to Bollyx.”
“ You still go to that class, then?”
“ You ’ ve been?” Jeremy asks, bewildered.
“ Bloody hell, no. But I remember Vee telling me about pulling her groin in a class.” Marcus laughs hard, and I cringe, remembering the pain. It was a brutal week at work, for sure.
“ You ’ re such an asshat. It was agony, and I still had to function with it.”
“ You worked with a busted groin?” Jeremy ’ s horrified expression would be comical if it weren ’ t for the underlying displeasure.
I shrug, shoving the pasta in the boiling water as Marcus sniggers, coming up behind me to add a hefty pinch of salt to the pot and toss the garlic in the simmering oil.
“ She never quits or cancels.”
“ I like money.” I shrug for the millionth time tonight.
I don ’ t know what else to say after Marcus summed me up so accurately. Neither does Jeremy, it would seem, though I ’ m pretty sure I hear a mumble from his direction. I pretend to help so I don ’ t have to look at him, but Marcus catches the blush before I can hide it and shoots me a ‘ what the fuck ’ look. I just purse my lips at him, basically telling him to eff off, and he sputters, snuffing out his laugh as he sucks in his lips, making him look so ridiculous I need to do the same to stop from bursting out.
Marcus clears his throat and announces dinner ’ s ready, then looks to me for guidance.
“ Oh right. Table?”
The boys nod, and I grab a handful of cutlery, passing it to Jeremy, then grab glasses with one hand and the wine with the other. Priorities.
We sit awkwardly around my little table—possibly the first time anyone has even eaten at this thing—and make stupid small talk. Mostly about soccer, of course, and Marcus actually being able to cook.
“ His mother is Sicilian. I don ’ t think he had much of a choice in the matter.”
Marcus chuckles, nodding his head. “ Yeah, every time I got something wrong, my mother, and even my Nonna, would hit me across the back of the head.”
“ Umm, more wine?”
I get up and head for the fridge, somehow having managed to polish off most of the first bottle myself. I blame the company and getting stuck in the most awkward dinner I ’ ve ever sat at. And I ’ m sure that ’ s saying something. I had some pretty shitty ones when I lived at home.
The boys just shake their heads. More for me, I guess…
“ Well, this was fun,” Marcus says with a wry smile, getting to his feet, “ but I should get going. Walk me out, Vee? It was good meeting you, Jeremy.”
Jeremy shakes his hand with a wan smile, and I follow Marcus as he heads for my door.
“ It looks good on you, Vivi,” Marcus says quietly, coming to a standstill in the doorway.
“ Uh, my clothes?”
“ No. ” He chuckles, shaking his head. “ Feelings.”
“ Come again?”
Marcus looks at me pointedly, and I scoff, rolling my eyes.
“ You ’ re going to tell me there ’ s nothing going on between you two? That he normally acts like someone is pissing on his turf?”
“ I don ’ t know what you ’ re talking about. We ’ re just friends.”
Marcus smirks, and I shake my head.
“ Nope. Not even that.”
He ’ s taken aback for a second but recovers quickly. “ Don ’ t cock this one up, yeah? There ’ s hope for the rest of us.” And with that, he kisses me tenderly on the forehead and walks out my door, possibly for the last time.
I ’ m stuck standing there for who knows how long until Jeremy brushes past me and out of my apartment.
“ Jeremy? ”
“ I have to go. I ’ ll text you later,” he throws over his shoulder, not even sparing me a glance.
“ Jeremy. Wait!”
Fuck . I rush back to the kitchen, snatching up my keys, and race after him.
“ Jeremy, don ’ t you dare!” I yell, sprinting for the elevator, and shove my arm between the doors at the last possible second before they close.
Jeremy doesn ’ t look at me as I step in until I pull on his arm, forcing him to spin around and face me. He schools his features, but not before I see the kaleidoscope of emotion contorting them.
“ What ’ s your problem? Why wouldn ’ t you stop?”
“ I don ’ t have a problem,” Jeremy snaps out. He sighs, running a hand through his hair, disheveling it, and the urge to do the same makes my finger flex. “ What do you want from me, Vivienne?”
“ What do I want from you? How about the truth, Jer? I don ’ t lie to you.” I raise my hand when he opens his mouth, no doubt to protest. “ Some things are not mine to tell, but I never lied. I just didn ’ t specify exactly what I did, and maybe slightly obscured the truth a tiny bit once in a while.”
The corner of my mouth curls up in a lopsided smile, and Jeremy ’ s does the same, breaking the tension between us, but only for a second before his expression falters, becoming a hard, unreadable mask.
“ I ’ m jealous. Happy?”
“ What… ? ” I stammer, refusing to acknowledge the twinge of satisfaction that passes through me. “ You know what I do, what I am. It ’ s never been an issue before.”
“ I ’ ve never had it shoved in my face before.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off.
“ He ’ s not exactly a client, is he? The intimacy the two of you have…it ’ s unmistakable.”
“ I ’ ve known him for years. You know this. We ’ re…friends.” Sort of.
“ Like we are?”
“ Well, no.”
“ Exactly. He ’ s had you in ways I can only dream about. Touched…” His eyes darken dangerously, and his voice dips lower as his breath fans my face. “ Tasted…” I swallow the lump in my throat, my gaze dropping to his mouth-watering lips, and I feel more than hear his next words. “ Taken everything he wants from your body, until you have nothing left to give, until you are both spent and sated.”
I ’ ve got nothing…except this painful need growing and coursing through me, sucking the very breath from my body.
He leans in close, the day-old growth on his jaw brushing my cheek, sending an involuntary shiver through me as he whispers in my ear. “ And just when I thought I couldn ’ t want you more than I already do, more than I should, I realize there ’ s one place no one has ever been, ever touched.” He pulls back as the doors ping open, his eyes burning into mine, piercing my very soul. “ I want that, Vivienne. The untouchable.”
My heart stops beating altogether when his gaze flickers to my mouth, and for a split second, I think he ’ s going to lean in and kiss me, taking what he so clearly wants. Instead, he walks away, leaving me speechless and breathless, staring after him in a trance.