10. Chapter 10 #2
It's a dig at her family. I'm not sure she hears it. But I know what I mean, and I have to accept I'm crossing a line.
I'm being an asshole.
She purses her lips. "So I'm right. They'll believe you."
"You see, they won't." I make my tone mild.
"They're all so happy in love, they think everyone is falling in love around them, too.
If they so much as suspect there's a hint of heat between you and me, they'll corner me in the locker room and try to convince me I should get you a ring and get down on one knee. "
The corners of her lips go down in displeasure. "Then maybe we should let them see us fight. Maybe then they'd be convinced."
"Sure. Because all we do is say mean things. Never anything that they could read into."
"Then I'll tell them I won't sleep with you. Ever. I'll make them believe me, if they won't believe you."
"You'll have to ask them to help you find a rebound if you want to do that."
"I don't need a rebound."
"You said you want to sleep around."
I take a step closer. Heat builds in my blood. I'm wise enough to understand it's anger and not desire. But I'm trying to find the line between annoyance and being mean and, hell, it's a little harder than I thought when we get into it.
"Hookups," she clarifies. "Simple fun."
"Whatever you want to call them. Why not start now?"
My friends would take that as a sign of what she really wants, which is being away from me. It could give us peace.
"What—" she blinks— "With you?!"
Her lips part in surprise. She straightens and studies my face and all of the non-verbal signs I'm sending too, just in case. I cock my head and take another step to her. This way, she'll get as close a look as she can handle.
I narrow my eyes. "Oh, honeybee. Why would you think I'm proposing anything of the sort? We wouldn't be a straightforward hookup."
She stands up. It shortens the distance between us. Her chin comes up in defiance, aligning our eyes. Our lips.
"You said 'start now' and…" she licks her lip. "You're here. Looking at me like that."
If she thinks she's having an effect on me, I'll take advantage and play for a win.
I hold my place. Her arms, still crossed, create friction against my shirt. She must feel it. I pretend I don't.
"There would be nothing simple about us." I caress her face with the back of my hand. "You know how it was between us… and how it ended."
We came together like fireworks. It could be rough or sweet, but always intense.
Hungry. In the beginning, I thought it was the power of finding someone who matched you so well in bed, it wrapped you up in all the right hormones until your body was taut with need.
Ready to burst. But only a few weeks later, I learned the truth.
Something special happens when you add your heart to the mix.
When your feelings are involved and it hits you— the person you're with is important to you.
I know that now. It's why we fell in love despite knowing our relationship would end.
She was always destined to go to England.
She warned me from the start. Any single thought— every single cry inside of me— that wished for it to be different was senseless.
We should have kept it light. Fun and casual for as long as it was meant to last. But we messed up, and I called her a year later still wound tight around my feelings for her.
I'm a wiser man now, and those emotions are far from what I want.
It doesn't mean there's nothing to be done.
I make a pass of my thumb over the corner of her lips, my eyes fixed on hers. "Now, if you were to ask me for a hookup…"
Then I'd get to tell her no. That it's too late for us. Pride would cement itself in the underpinnings of who I am, that not only I resisted her for once, but I was the strongest one of us.
If she did, I'd know I wasn't the only one still feeling things we don't mean to feel.
She invades my space further, until our torsos touch. It's a dare, making herself occupy more space against me. It doesn't work in her favor. I come close enough that there's nothing but a breath of air between us.
She narrows her eyes. "We're not going to fuck, Dom."
I shake my head. I agree with her— we're not.
Her body may still fit every dream I've ever had, with her elegant clothes and stilettos-every-day look, that I might have enjoyed taking off layer by layer in another lifetime, just so I could have her generous, lush curves uncovered and displayed front and center.
And sure, I've learned that anger and chemistry mirror each other and share a heart rate.
They both heighten my senses and bring heat to my blood. The chemistry between us is there.
But this is about taking her up on her dares. Getting her to break and ask. So I can be the one to tell her no.
Yep, still an asshole. Only because I need to check the chasm between us.
If I act slowly, she'll have the time to stop me. Would she stop me? Or would she crumble under the power of what lives between us, even after all this time?
A corner of my mouth curls up. I delight in small, unhurried movements. With firm hands, I make her turn and give me her back.
"What are you doing?" she asks, but she doesn't stop me.
"We won't fuck." I push forward, forcing her to angle down. "Tell me to step away any time you like."
Her arms straighten. Her hands splay wide as she braces against the desk. Our bodies end up lined up, my torso to her back, my hips against her ass.
"Dom."
I nuzzle her ear. "Even if I'm the best wrong decision you could make."
She still doesn't stop me— she curves her back. Her indulgent ass pushes against me. My response is automatic. Primal. I rub myself against her.
"Put an end to this," I growl. "Make a sound. Say no. Push back— And I'll retreat."
"I should stop you."
"Do it."
"You're not only a wrong decision," she pants. "You're the obvious one."
"Fuck, Mari."
My hands land next to hers on wood. I cage her in my arms. My temple rests on her hair, and I take a deep, labored breath, longing for her smell to fill my lungs again.
She keeps pushing back, rubbing on my erection. I keep echoing her, dry humping right here in her office. We move together.
"Ask me," I whisper. "See where that leads us."
"I won't ask." Her words come out strained. "You may not be saying the words, but you're acting on them."
I scoff. It helps hide the moan building in my throat. Deep in my guts.
"This isn't me breaking." I bite on the shell of her ear. "This is me reminding you how good it would feel. In case you want to do something about it."
"I won't ask." She moans.
"But you won't stop me. Is that it?"
"If you keep going, then it's you who's breaking."
We heighten our pace. I groan, low and deep in my throat. She mutters a fuck that burrows into me until I have to claw at the wood under my fingers, to stop my hand from traveling over her body, following trails I mapped a long time ago.
"If you don't stop me, I'll stop." I breathe on her skin. "Even if you say yes, I'll stop."
"Unless I ask?"
"Try it and find out."
She whines. "I won't. You're too mean these days. At least with me you are."
"Have you wondered what would happen if I wasn't?"
I have. I'd get in my head, get confused, and could end up acting on the chemistry we so obviously still have.
She's the only one I was forced to let go.
She's my one regret. The one that got away.
After her, I never felt like holding on.
Now she's close again, and all those emotions I had with her are rushing back.
Only I don't want to live with more regret, and that's all I'd feel afterwards. I'd be failing myself, and I refuse to keep making mistakes where Mariana is involved.
"Cat got your tongue, Princesa? Or is that kitty crying too loud to think?"
She growls and pushes me away. I stumble back a few steps. I took it too far. Though the way she presses her legs together tells me she liked it as much as I did.
But she clears her throat. She faces me again, leaning back on the desk again like she needs the extra support. We stare at each other without moving, except for how hard our chests work. Her eyes are bright. I fist my hands to stay away.
"We're not doing this," she breathes.
Soft color blooms on her face and, dammit, I want to kiss her cheeks and tell her I'm sorry, I don't even know why.
I clench my jaw. "But you will grind against my cock for a few minutes."
"You started it."
"You didn't stop me."
"I did. I stopped it."
"I told you from the beginning we're not going to fuck. I wouldn't have kept going. Even if you asked. Especially if you did."
She gazes to the floor and covers her mouth with a hand. Her hair curtains around her face. I dig my nails into my palms and gulp.
"I will never ask," she finally says.
My cock is still painfully hard. I do nothing to stop it or hide it.
"Fuck," I mutter.
"I think you should leave," she whispers. "Whatever game you're playing, we're done for today."
We lock eyes. Unashamed, I adjust my cock with a hand, tucking it flat against my body. I clench my jaw not to moan, and not to do what it so desperately wants. It'll have to do, until I find a bathroom to pour cold water on my face and wait out this boner.
I am not rubbing one out when I can still feel the ghost of Mariana against me. My pride wouldn't let me do that, especially not after what we just did.
I'll go down with this ship.
"I'll see you next week." I smirk. "Good luck to us."
She doesn't move. I turn around, and leave the door open behind me.