Chapter 23 Megan #2
“I do too. You were the person who showed me that I didn’t have to be afraid to kiss someone.
You showed me that a kiss was supposed to be an exchange of affection, not force or violation.
” For a moment, I was hypnotized by his lips and wondered what it would be like to feel them on me—to taste them again—after so long.
But I knew that wasn’t right. Neil had drawn a very clear boundary in his mind when it came to me, and he wasn’t going to cross it.
“We always avoided each other because of what we went through together, but I think we’ve also always supported each other too.
I could kiss you because I knew that you were like me, so I wasn’t ashamed.
There was never any discomfort or embarrassment with you; I always felt like there was this thing that connected us.
The terrible thing that happened to us also meant that we were…
bonded,” I said softly. Neil’s face turned stormy.
He didn’t like hearing me talk like that, undoubtedly afraid that I’d develop some sort of emotional involvement with him.
But if I did, I would have been able to deal with it myself.
He didn’t say anything in answer. He just tossed his head like he was trying to shake off his worries. Then he gave me a hint of a tender smile.
Our lives had always been distinct, and after the incident, mostly separate, but it sometimes felt to me that our trajectories were two undulating lines that would never straighten out. Two lines that originated from the same point and were heading in the same direction.
“So don’t ask me why I’m doing it, Neil.
I am always here for you the way you have always been there for me.
When we were children, when we were teenagers, and now that we’re adults.
” I allowed myself to stroke the back of his hand, and he didn’t reject my touch.
I had never been much given to physical displays of affection, but this gesture was instinctive, impulsive, and, most of all, honest.
His skin was mostly smooth, rougher on his knuckles, and for all that his veins protruded in a show of strength, his fingers were long and slender. They were attractive hands, large and manly. The kind of hands that made you want them on your body, leaving their imprint in bruises and blushes.
“I should…” Neil cleared his throat and broke our contact, stepping back. “I should finish my work.” He rubbed his eyebrow with his thumb and sighed uncomfortably. He seemed to be wrestling with something. He licked his lower lip and let out a sigh of frustration.
I stood motionless, staring at him, unable to move. My lower abdomen pulsed, and desire was starting to overtake my rational mind.
Shit.
I had to get out of that office.
I needed to get away from him as fast as humanly possible. ASAP.
I should have been able to retain at least a modicum of logical thought, but it was so hard when I saw how his eyes were locked on my thighs, which had been exposed by my position on the desk.
I held perfectly still, waiting to see what he’d do.
I didn’t understand what was going on any more than he did. His stare heated, those golden eyes seeming to glow even brighter, and his breathing sped up slightly.
He looked at me carefully: at my hips and then up to my breasts and then my mouth, where he stopped. I held my breath; his stare felt like a touch.
Breathe. Breathe, Megan, I ordered myself.
Never before had I been so weak.
This was not the place to indulge in my desires. He was not the man to help me act out my lusty fantasies. I felt like a fool. A total idiot.
And all at once, I came back to myself.
“Yes…I also have to finish up a project.” I hopped off the desk, the movement clumsy, and I was lucky that my wobbly legs held me up.
“Perfect, we can ride home together,” he confirmed the way he always did, but this time, there was something different in his voice. Something dark and extremely erotic. I couldn’t stand being so close to him a moment longer—my body was going up in flames.
I nodded with a strained smile and hurried awkwardly out of his office.
I spent the next few hours reviewing and editing projects for my mentor. Yet I had a feeling I’d not had in a long time, a disquieting heat, especially intense between my thighs.
How long had it been since I’d been sexually attracted to a man?
* * *
I didn’t say a single word on the ride home. I didn’t even look at Neil and tried to avoid getting drawn into any pervy banter with him. I also continued to muse on what it was about him that was so different from other men, about why I found myself so drawn to him.
Maybe I was just tired. Stressed out from work. A long, hot bath would probably take care of all my problems.
Yes, that was it. No need to worry.
“I’m wiped,” I said as I walked into our apartment while Neil slipped off his nice coat and hung it up on the rack.
Then he went straight for the refrigerator while I kicked off my heels by the door before collapsing into the soft cushions of the living room sofa.
My butt really appreciated the cushy surface after sitting in an uncomfortable chair for hours on end.
“Want some wine?” His voice pulled me out of my considerations about my butt’s workday, and I turned to give him a thumbs-up.
“Man, my ass is sore,” I muttered as he handed me a wineglass. I sipped it with a contented sigh. Neil sat down next to me, his legs slightly splayed in his usual casually arrogant posture.
Sexy posture. Because every move he made was so incredibly fucking sexy.
“Women tell me I give a good massage. Want one?” he asked slyly, and I was relieved he could get back to joking after that visit from his family.
He smiled mischievously at me, but I politely declined.
Instead, I stood up and stretched my muscles before putting the empty wine glass back down on the coffee table in front of us.
“My butt requires a long bath and more comfortable clothes, not your groping hands, you perv.” I walked away, confident that he would check out my ass the way he did every time I walked in front of him and went to my room for some fresh clothes and a little pampering.
After a relaxing hour in the tub, I wandered back into the living room wearing a T-shirt sans bra and my fuchsia thong. Neil wasn’t there.
The heater in our apartment was broken, and our temperature choices were either sweltering or no heat at all, so Neil was now used to seeing me walk around the place half-naked.
Just as I had gotten used to seeing his chiseled physique covered only by a pair of boxers.
I went into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge to grab a bottle of water, already thinking about the book I was going to read in my downtime.
“You should really wear a bra.” I jumped in surprise when I heard his voice right behind me. The bottle of water I was just about to drink from fell into the sink with a thud. I turned to look at him, though I would rather not have.
His golden eyes seemed to glow in the gloom of the kitchen.
I languidly appraised his body. The gleaming amber skin, broad shoulders, the half-moons of his pectorals, and his flat stomach that led into an inverted triangle shape that vanished into his black boxers.
I dwelled for a moment on a tattoo decorating his left hip, thinking that I’d seen it on some other occasion.
He must have known what I was thinking because he gave me a smug smile that spoke directly to my pussy.
Shit.
“What are you looking at?” he asked, a hint of delight in his tone, and then he reached down with one hand to touch himself between his thighs.
He cupped the bulge of his manhood underneath the black fabric.
I gasped at the blatant move, realizing immediately he was trying to mess with me.
He’d done it frequently in the last six months, but this time I wasn’t sure that it was just a joke.
Neil was calculating, twisted, and an asshole.
A magnificent asshole with an angel’s face and the devil’s eyes. I’d always shut him down before, telling myself that I wasn’t really attracted to him.
I could feel desire for men, but when I did and I tried to act on it, thoughts of Ryan often filled up my head.
“Would you rather it was one of your girlfriends standing here right now?” Neil went on, letting go of himself. He leaned back against the counter and watched me curiously. His self-confidence was overpowering. I totally got why girls couldn’t resist him.
“Maybe…” I said, adopting a confident demeanor of my own. I wasn’t going to allow myself to be cowed by him. I met and held his gaze, feeling an odd warmth spreading through my chest. “But you know I love anything that’s got a soul,” I reminded him, narrowing my eyes.
“And you think that I have a soul?” he asked.
I could feel the sensuality rolling off him.
Neil didn’t even know how inherently erotic he was, and I liked that aspect of him.
I liked it, and my body liked it too, so much so that I involuntarily arched my breasts forward, the nipples stiff and ready to be sucked.
“You saved me in that basement. I’ve always known you have a soul. A good, scrappy one, too,” I confessed.
Something shifted in his eyes. Neil went stiff, and I could see the memories filling up his head. There was no longer any trace of teasing on his face.
Before he ran the way he usually did, I moved toward him. Neil stood up straight and tried to go, but I grabbed him by the forearm. He looked at me, bewildered, but I didn’t know what I was doing any better than he did. I just wanted him to stop blaming himself.