Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
In all the ways I had imagined him discovering my feelings for him, this was never the way I had thought it would happen.
I wanted to be brave enough to look him in the eye and admit I’d secretly loved him from afar for most of my teenage years, but I didn’t have the courage. My mind raced for any excuse that would deflect him from realizing the truth of what the folder filled with his pictures meant.
I shrugged. “It’s no big deal. You’ve got great cheek bones and jaw line. Any photographer would love the chance to take your picture.”
The warmth of his hand over mine was scrambling my senses so I pulled my hand from under his and rested it in my lap.
“If you ever wanted a change of career, modeling would be my suggestion.” This time I made a point of looking up at him.
He smiled. It was dazzling, like a moment under the warmth of the sun.
“Anyway…” I stood up, steadying myself against the table.
Get out, my mind instructed me, and I reached for the folder. He lifted his hand so I could retrieve it. He had bought my excuse and my secret was still safe.
He straightened up, standing in my way, and I hugged the folder to my chest as I frowned at him.
“What?” I said when he wouldn’t step out of my way to let me pass.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he murmured. “The worst.”
He knew. No amount of talking was going to take away that knowledge. Years of watching from afar had been captured in the photos he had seen and there was no taking it back. I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say.
The way he looked at me made my breath halt and I stared, unable to say or do anything.
His hand lifted to touch my cheek and I felt my pulse quicken. I swallowed, finding my throat dry. No one’s touch set me alight like his did and he watched my reaction when he lightly brushed my lips with his thumb.
My head was starting to spin. His eyes fixed on my slightly parted lips.
“All these years and I had no idea.” His eyes searched mine.
I could have tried to deny it but he would have seen right through it. Transfixed, I was hypnotized by the awe that played across his features.
“Um…I…” I was tongue-tied.
“For once, I have you speechless,” he whispered with a smile.
I wanted to think of something smart to say back but my mind was blank. All I could think of was what it would feel like to have his lips on mine.
Suddenly he was closer and for a moment I believed my fantasy of my first kiss with him was about to unfold, but instead he sighed and leaned his forehead lightly against me.
“I want to,” he breathed, “but I can’t.”
Confused, I pulled away, feeling embarrassed. His hand moved to cradle my face and he feathered a kiss to my forehead. My heart plummeted.
This wasn’t playing out the way I had always hoped. It was like he was crushing all the dreams and hopes I had nurtured for him over the years.
“That’s okay,” I said, trying to sound unaffected by his rejection. “I’m sure the fantasy is better than reality.”
A glint of defiance sparkled in his eyes before he dipped his lips to capture mine.
The moment his lips touched mine, I knew this was different from any other kiss I had ever experienced before. The pressure of his mouth against mine deepened until I sought more.
I gasped as his tongue slid inside my mouth to caress mine. The folder dropped from my hold, photos dropping to a mess on the floor, but I didn’t care. My senses were solely fixed on the man kissing me. I clung to his shoulders when he deepened the kiss, and my stomach flipped.
Every daydream about him had been nowhere near the reality of being kissed by him. My legs turned to jelly as I held on to him. His hands drifted to pull me closer and I linked my arms around his neck.
We shifted and I felt the desk behind me. He lifted me to sit on the top before nudging my legs apart to stand between them. I wanted more. So much more. I wanted to hold on to him and not let go until the earth stopped moving beneath my feet.
My hands touched his chest and I could feel the hard muscles flex beneath the shirt. I wanted to remember each and every touch. He stopped kissing me and I inhaled deeply, trying to get air back in my lungs. We were suspended in time, staring at each other, immobile.
His hands held my waist firmly like he wasn’t going to let me go, but I saw the internal struggle in his eyes. Not wanting him to stop what was happening, I kissed him before he could pull away. Like before, the moment our lips met, all logic and reasoning were lost.
His mouth moved more insistently against mine, like he wanted more, and I wanted to give him everything I had, no matter the consequences.
Unlike him, I had nothing holding me back.
I had wanted this for longer than I could remember.
There wasn’t a time in my teen years that I hadn’t longed for this, and here he was, flesh and blood, kissing me like he wanted no one else.
I wanted to feel the bare skin of his chest so I lifted his shirt. He broke the kiss long enough to pull it over his head. His muscles gleamed and I put my hand against the warmth of his skin. His heart beat steadily under my hand as I slid it over his stomach.
“Tracy,” he murmured. His hand caught my wrist and stilled my exploration.
“You want this,” I reminded him.
There was no doubt with the way his fiery eyes held mine that he wanted me just like I wanted him. This attraction was mutual. This wasn’t just a one-sided teen crush, this was chemistry between two consenting adults.
“I do.” The confession tore from his lips. “But there are so many reasons I need to stop before we both regret it.”
I shook my head, refusing to allow him to ruin this.
“You want me and I want you. It’s that simple.” I wet my lips. My heart was still beating rapidly as I tried to reason with him.
I could still feel the imprint of his mouth on mine and I wanted to feel it again.
“Tracy.” He sighed heavily, and I knew I had lost him.
He moved to pick up his shirt as I slid from the desk, smoothing my hair and clothes. My hands shook.
The floor was littered with all the pictures of him, mocking me. I bent down to gather the pictures and he helped me. I snatched the photos and shoved them in the folder, wishing I had never taken them.
“In my fantasies, you never stopped,” I whispered when I stood. I fled from the room before he could respond.
Tears of humiliation slid down as I slammed the door of the guest room shut. I leaned against the door, feeling so angry I wanted to yell instead of cry.
Damn him! I wanted to rip up every photo and every memory of him, but I didn’t. Instead I held the folder, wondering how I would ever be able to face him again.
A little later he knocked on the door and told me my bag was outside the door. Like a coward, I waited for him to leave before I slowly peered through the opening to ensure he wasn’t there before I got it.
It was getting late and I was tired. It had been an eventful day. But I knew it wasn’t going to be easy for me to shut off and get any sleep.
I kept myself busy by getting ready for bed and got under the covers before I heard another knock.
“You can’t stay in there forever.”
I refused to answer. He had hurt me badly and I wasn’t ready to play nice.
“You have to eat.” He sighed.
In response I lay down on my side and switched off the light. I stared into the darkness, feeling my stomach grumble. I would rather die of hunger than have to deal with him again.
I was tired and grumpy. But it was the pain of rejection that ached in the middle of my chest that hurt the most. Sleep hadn’t been within my grasp.
Dark circles beneath my eyes would make my lack of sleep glaringly obvious.
I managed to cover them up with some makeup but I was still sitting on the bed, trying to build up the courage to leave the room. It was after nine already.
Mark had already been up for an hour. I’d heard him while I had lain in my bed, trying not to relive what had happened in the study.
I had work to do and I couldn’t put it off any longer.
I took a deep breath before I opened the door and walked to the living room.
It was empty. I was tempted to slip out and get an taxi to my appointment so I wouldn’t have to face him, but the longer it went on the more difficult it would be to address.
The smell of coffee drew me to the kitchen where Mark was seated and drinking his coffee with a newspaper. When I appeared in the doorway, he folded the paper.
“You’re up.”
I nodded.
“Coffee?” he asked, and I nodded again. I would have helped myself but I had no idea where he kept anything.
He got a plain white mug out and made me coffee. He added two sugars and cream. I was a little surprised he knew how I took it. I watched as he stirred it.
“Thanks,” I murmured when he handed it to me.
“You hungry?” he asked.
I shook my head but the truth was I was starving. The hunger pangs were stabbing but I refused to admit I needed anything from him.
“You didn’t eat last night. You have to be hungry.” The disapproval was clear in his face.
“I don’t need you to fuss,” I said in a clipped tone, unable to even pretend to be nice.
“You have to eat. I can make you something if you want,” he suggested, still pressing on.
“No, I’m good.” Taking a long sip of my coffee, I managed to ease my grumbling tummy. “I have to get to my first appointment and I don’t want to be late. ”
“Fine,” he relented. He got something out of the bowl beside the fridge and turned to hand me an apple. I was about to hand it back but he had already left and I hurried after him. I shoved the fruit into my purse.
The boxes that held my equipment still stood in the living room and I gathered up what I needed.
“Look, if you can just drop me off at my place I can get to the appointment on my own.” I slung the camera bag over my shoulder.
He stood, feet apart with his arms crossed, shaking his head. “No. That’s not what we agreed on.”