“Neither was you showing your ass in the sauna, but that happened.”
“Still thinking about that?” I ask.
“Ollie, I’ll be thinking about that for a really f**king long time.”
His thumb rubs over my cheek, and for some reason, I lean toward him, wetting my lips.
My body is reacting to his touch.
To his soft voice.
To his gentleness.
To our proximity.
“Were you mad I left? Would you have preferred I stayed in the sauna with you?”
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’m not sure I should answer that.”
“Because you’re afraid the truth will scare me?” I ask as I glance at his lips.
“No,” he answers as his jaw ticks with tension. “Because we shouldn’t be talking about that.”
“You brought it up,” I say, leaning in closer.
His eyes glance at my lips and then back up, the tension in the car so palpable that I actually can taste it.
I can taste him.
“It’s ingrained in my brain.” His thumb drags over my cheek, down to my mouth, where he tugs on my bottom lip. His body inches closer, and I prepare myself for his kiss.
It’s not like we haven’t kissed before, but this feels different.
This feels real.
This feels like we’re about to cross a line.
I hold my breath, my eyes connected to his.
What I wouldn’t give to taste him again.
To feel his lips against mine.
To have him tug on my hair with his strong hand as he angles my mouth for better pressure.
He takes a deep breath, his eyes flitting back and forth between my eyes and my lips.
God, just do it.
Just kiss me.
End this pounding, aching, searing feeling pulsing through my veins.
And when he leans in another inch, I feel my heart stop . . . just as he pulls away, putting so much space between us that a wave of cold trickles down my spine, as well as embarrassment.
He pushes his hand through his hair and then swears under his breath before gripping the steering wheel.
“Uh, do you want me to walk you up to your room?”
I blink a few times, trying to regain my composure as I shake my head. “Uh, no, that’s okay.”
“Okay,” he says awkwardly.
“Well . . .” I open the door. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He looks straight ahead. “Have a good night.”
Needing to end the awkwardness, I leave the car and head straight to my building, where I push through the heavy doors and take the stairs up to my floor, not wanting to wait for the elevator.
When I reach my room, I let out a large sigh and lean against my door.
God . . . he almost kissed me.
So close.
And I wanted him to.
Badly.
F**k . . .
Needing to get the smell of the zoo off me, I strip down to nothing and turn on my shower. I take a long, steam-filled shower, making sure to scrub every part of my body. I scrub for longer than I usually do, and I’m not sure if I’m scrubbing to get the zoo off me or if I’m trying to scrub the thought of Silas almost kissing me out of my head. Either way, I smell heavily of lavender, and I still can’t stop thinking about Silas.
When I step out of the shower, I wrap the towel around my torso and lotion up before heading into the main part of my room. I drop the towel and flop back on my bed, naked.
Staring up at the ceiling, I feel my body itching, needing that release, so I reach over to my nightstand just as my phone lights up with a text.
Silas.
I grab my phone and my vibrator and lay back down on the bed. I check the text first.
Silas: I’m sorry.
That’s it.
That’s all he said. Not sure I would expect more. I’m usually the one leading the conversation.
Ollie: Sorry for what? Almost kissing me?
Silas: Yes.
With one hand, I take the vibrator and move it down to my slit as I part my thighs.
With the other hand, I text him back.
Ollie: I wanted it just as much as you.
Silas: Ollie . . . don’t.
I switch on my vibrator.
Ollie: Don’t what?
Silas: You’re tempting me again.
Ollie: Tempting you would be telling you that as I text right now, my other hand is holding a vibrator against my clit.
I sink into the feel of the vibration, knowing damn well it’s not going to take long.
Silas: F**k . . . don’t say that shit.
Ollie: Why? Does it turn you on?
Silas: You know damn well it does.
Ollie: Well . . . let it turn you on. You might not be able to kiss me, but you sure as hell can dream about it. Happy masturbating, Silas.
Silas: F**k . . . me.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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