Chapter 15 #2
‘Mm.’ He nods. ‘If you’re a lead player, you can encourage your patron to sign someone you think is good. Lady M has always valued my input. You know I was in talks with Ambrose to join DQ last year?’
‘Seriously?’
‘But I feel a strong loyalty to this yard,’ he admits.
‘Eliza saw something in me long before anyone else did. The first time she ever saw me play, I was playing against Basilio and he was fire that day. He scored more goals than anyone. That’s what it was like playing with him when we were young – he was so brilliant, most people only saw him and no one else. That’s what makes him so cocky.’
‘How strange for a polo player,’ I remark sarcastically.
‘Don’t think too badly of us. You have to believe you can win if you play professional sport,’ he points out. ‘Otherwise you never will.’
Serafina whinnies, kicking at her stall and making me jump. Mateo knocks back the contents of his mug before placing it on the ground and standing up to go over to her.
‘It makes me happy she’s doing so well,’ he comments, one hand gently scratching her cheek, the other rubbing the end of her nose. ‘William loved her so much.’
‘The Viscount? Lady M was saying how he made her promise never to sell her.’
‘Thank goodness.’
‘Otherwise you wouldn’t have the fastest pony in the yard.’
‘And you and I might not have met.’
I freeze, my mug halfway to my lips. Serafina snorts, pulling away from him, done with the cuddles for now.
He leans on her stall door. I bring the mug to my lips and take a big gulp of wine, finishing it.
I can feel his eyes on me and my heart is thudding loud and fast, my whole body tingling with anticipation and hope and fear.
I place the empty mug down on the floor.
‘Top-up?’ I offer, unable to look at him.
‘Sure.’
Rising to my feet, I take a step over towards the wine bottle that’s next to his chair before I feel his fingers brush down my arm, landing at my wrist and staying there, my breath catching at his touch.
‘Ash.’
I turn to face him, hardly trusting myself to speak. Lifting my chin, I gaze up into his eyes as they desperately search mine.
‘Yes,’ I whisper, everything around us fading into a blur. It’s just me and him.
He takes my face in his hands and swallows.
‘I can’t… I can’t do this anymore,’ he says in a strained, hoarse voice.
‘Do what?’
‘Be around you all the time and pretend like I don’t want to kiss you.’
I swallow audibly, any crumb of willpower in my body vanishing without a trace.
‘Then kiss me,’ I say, like I’m challenging him.
He doesn’t need telling twice.
Dipping his head, he presses his mouth to mine and kisses me urgently, like he might burst if he doesn’t.
A small moan of relief and pleasure emits from my throat, my hands finding his waist and sliding up the ridges of his abs I can feel through his shirt as he drops his hands to my hips and pulls me into him, pressing his body against mine.
I loop my arms around his neck, wanting to lock him in forever if it means this kiss, this amazing, spectacular, earth-shattering kiss, doesn’t have to end.
My breath hitches as his tongue parts my lips and glides against mine, his stubble rough against my skin.
I feel instantly intoxicated by this man, the way he smells of freshly-sprayed deodorant and cologne, how warm and hard his body feels up against mine, how good he tastes, as though I’ve been craving him my whole life and I’ve finally got my hit of him.
The kiss is so frenzied and urgent, I stumble backwards dizzily but he styles it out for me, taking control and moving me backwards until my back hits the wall.
Fuck me, this is hot. This is the hottest fucking kiss I’ve ever had.
Nothing has ever been like this, so passionate and desperate and demanding: a kiss that sends shivers down my spine and leaves me begging for more with my lips and hands, a warm ache gathering between my legs.
My nails dig into the firm muscles of his shoulders.
He’s so strong and toned and powerful. I feel tiny, enveloped by his huge frame.
I gasp for breath as he trails kisses down my jawline and my neck, his warm, large hands slipping under the fabric of my shirt and roaming over my waist. I can feel his hard erection pressing against my hip and it’s driving me wild.
When he tries to take a moment to look at me, his breath ragged, his eyes dark and piercing, I pull his lips back to mine so quickly, he smiles against my mouth.
He frees a hand from under my shirt and, insisting on breaking the kiss, his gaze drops to my lips as he brushes his thumb along my lower lip before giving it the gentlest of tugs, teasing me.
He rests his forehead against mine and sighs, closing his eyes.
‘Fuck, I want you,’ he says in a low, raspy growl. ‘What do you do to me, Ash?’
Raking my fingers through his hair, I arch into him needily and he brushes his lips against mine, slowing down the pace.
Suddenly, it feels different. My heart is pounding as his nose nudges mine, his lips soft, gentle, almost tentative.
Before, I was spellbound by his desire, a willing captive to a kiss that sent feverish pulses of heat through my body, but now, the way he’s kissing me, it feels…
intimate and meaningful. Which I know it can’t be.
Whoa. What am I doing?
My sensible brain kicks in to gear. This is too dangerous. In a flash, I see how this plays out from here. I see how devasting it could be. I know him and what he can do. I know if I let this go on, I would not walk away unscathed. Not from him.
He can sense my hesitation. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, drawing away, his eyes nervously darting around my face as he tries to read my expression.
‘We can’t do this,’ I say quietly, my voice cracking. ‘I can’t do this again.’
‘What? Do what again?’ he asks in confusion, stepping back from me instantly. ‘Ash, tell me what’s wrong? Did I do something?’
‘No, no, you were perfect. Too perfect. I… I’m sorry. Thank you for the wine.’
‘It’s okay, you can talk to me. Wait,’ he calls out after me as I hurry out of there as fast as I can. ‘Ash!’
Convinced I’m doing the right thing and desperate to run back to his arms, I don’t allow myself to look back at him. I know what will happen if I do.