Chapter 19
Alex
Even in a galleryof huge photos of naked people, Kat stood out. At least to me. It was her height, her fall of dark hair, and that dress. It was her legs and the confident way she stood in those high heels. It was the tone of her skin, tawny and healthy compared to all these pasty, artsy types. It was the wryly humorous look on her face as she listened to whatever Himari was saying, as if she thought her situation was a little bit absurd. It was her dark, intelligent eyes and their sexy gaze. It was just her.
Everything about Kat had always fascinated me, and tonight was no exception.
I’d waited as long as I could. I wasn’t exactly sure what Himari wanted to talk to Kat so urgently about, but there were a few options. One was that she was simply nosy and curious about the only date I’d ever brought to one of these events, a woman who was my ex-wife no less. The other was that she was going to give Kat her pitch to convince me to fund the gallery renovation. Himari was devoted to the gallery and had no shame when it came to asking for money to run it. It was one of the reasons she was so good at her job.
Most likely, Himari wanted to satisfy her curiosity and pitch Kat, both at once. I’d let Kat swim for a few minutes, but now was the time to rescue her.
“You’ve interrupted our little gossip,” Himari said, as if I’d be fooled for a second into thinking they were talking about shopping tips or makeup colors.
Kat turned her gaze to me as I approached. She still looked amused, but something in her eyes softened when she saw me. Or maybe I just imagined it.
“Sorry,” I said. “I got bored.” There was more to the conversation—Kat said something, and then Himari said something before leaving the room—but I was distracted. “Jesus Christ.” I turned on my heel and looked around at the art on the walls.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Kat’s voice was a little throaty.
There was definitely an erect cock on the far wall, or more than one, but I didn’t look too closely. My gaze caught on a woman with her legs spread in a— “Is that a spiderweb?”
“It’s supposed to be about examining your own reactions, and about shame.” Kat wasn’t looking at the spiderweb woman; she was looking at a guy in a shower with a cock that went halfway down his leg. I tried not to wince. No guy likes a comparison.
I cleared my throat. “What did Himari want?”
Kat bit her lip. The atmosphere in this room was getting to her. I knew how she felt, because it was also getting to me. “She wanted me to get you to give money to the gallery.”
Since Kat wasn’t looking, I let my gaze travel down the deep vee in the front of her dress, the exposed skin between her breasts. She looked better than any woman in an erotic photograph. “Himari does that. Ask for money, I mean.”
“It wasn’t what I thought she was going to say,” Kat said.
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “I thought she was going to tell me she was sleeping with you.”
My gaze moved back up to Kat’s face. She still wasn’t looking at me; she was turned slightly toward the photo of the man. I had the feeling she wasn’t really looking anymore, just avoiding me.
“Would that matter?” I asked her.
She took a moment to answer as a flush slowly stained her cheekbones. Finally, she gave me honesty. “Yes.”
An unexpected rush of heat moved through my veins. It felt like triumph, like I’d won something, though I wasn’t aware I’d been competing. The air in this room was suddenly almost too thick to breathe. “Good,” I said.
She turned away from the picture and looked at me. Our gazes locked.
“She says you’re not sleeping with her,” Kat said.
“Do you think I would do that?” My triumph was tinged with anger. I couldn’t explain either feeling, except that Kat always made my emotions go haywire. I took a step closer to her, almost up against her. “You think I would bring you to an event run by a woman I was fucking? That I’d let you walk blind into something like that?”
Kat’s lips parted, but she didn’t speak.
I raised my hands to the back of her head and wound my fingers gently in her hair, pulling her closer to me. She hissed in a breath. I had always loved Kat’s hair, the silky sheen of it, the way it fell down her back. The way it draped over me when she fucked me on top. I had had a hundred erotic dreams about Kat’s hair.
“If I ever disrespect you like that,” I said to her as my fingers worked, “you should never speak to me again.” Then I leaned in and kissed her.
Deep down, I wondered if she would fight me. If she would reject me and tell me to go to hell. You never knew with Kat. But instead she gave a soft sigh as her mouth met mine and she parted her lips, as if she’d been waiting for me. I didn’t need any other invitation.
We were in the middle of an art gallery—albeit a dirty one—so I tried to restrain myself. She tasted like champagne and the familiar flavor of Kat. Even after all these years, I knew what Kat tasted like. I knew how she liked to kiss, the way she liked to run her tongue on my bottom lip, the way she leaned in to my body, the way she gave and demanded at the same time. I recognized the way her nails dug into my biceps through the fabric of my suit, and the sensation made my body hot in a way it hadn’t been since the last time I kissed her.
When was that? We hadn’t kissed in the bathroom at the courthouse. We hadn’t kissed during our last epic fight. When exactly was the last time I’d kissed Kat Sloane? What would I have done differently if I had known, during that kiss, that I wouldn’t do it again until right this moment?
How many other things in my life would I have done differently if I had the chance?
Her nails were still digging into my arms when I broke the kiss and pulled away.
Her eyes were dark and unfocused. She licked her lip.
“That was a terrible idea,” she said, still leaning into me, her hands still on me.
“A terrible fucking idea,” I agreed. “Let’s go home.”