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“Save it. You said everything you needed to say the other night.”Despite his words, I detect not even a hint of anger in his tone. He almost sounds like I set a boundary and he’s respecting it. I don’t like that either.
“Please, let me explain,” I say, taking another step toward him and reaching out to touch his arm.
He glances at my hand on his bare arm, then meets my gaze. “Explain what? I know what ‘it is all just chemistry and attraction’ means, Lila.” There’s something so dangerous in his eyes I feel like I’m playing with fire... and there’s no way I won’t wind up burned.
“Fredrick-” I say, but he interrupts me again.
“Are you sure it’s only attraction?” he asks, leaning in closer to me, intensity rolling off him like fog off early morning mountains.
“I-” I can hardly breathe, let alone answer his question.
And he studies me, his eyes serious.
I stand there, frozen in place, unsure what to do. I can’t answer him. He’s obviously not open to talking. But his voice has me all confused inside.
“Sorry, I shouldn't have come-” I say, turning to leave.
But his fingers wrap around my arm like steel, and he pulls me back into him. I let out a yelp of shock and desire, and he pulls me in his door and closes it behind me. He spins me around, and I’m trapped between him and the door, afraid to even breathe because I might give some indication of how much I want him right now.
But he leans in until his heavy, warm body is pinning me to the door, and my whole body hums to life.
We shouldn't be doing this. There are so many things we need to discuss. “Fredrick, I-” But he kisses me, ending the conversation. His hands roam my body, and his tongue demands entrance to my mouth. I let him in, unable to help myself. I want this. I want him.
“Shh,” he murmurs against my lips. “Just shut up and kiss me.”
I give in to him, losing myself in the passion of the moment. I know I shouldn't be here, that I'm setting myself up for heartbreak, but how can I resist him? He knows exactly what to do to make my body sing.
When he lifts me up, I wind my legs around his hip, opening my mouth and letting him in deeper. Maybe, just maybe, I can help him heal from whatever his father's letter said.
And maybe, just maybe, we can find a way to make this work.
A while later, I’m watching him pace. Nothing seems to be taking the edge off the worry etched in his features. I hate seeing him pace like a caged animal.
I stand up, fully aware that his attention jumps back to me every once in a while. “Hey,” I say softly, approaching him cautiously, like I’m about to feed a wild bear.
“Sorry,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I just...I don't know what to do.”
“Talk to me,” I say. “I need a little more context so I can support you.”
But he shakes his head and goes back to pacing. I hate seeing him like this, but I’m not sure how to help or what to do. My presence only seems to be riling him up further. I don’t know what has him so bothered, but I wish - with every fiber of my being - that I could fix it.
I reach out to touch his arm and he stops once more and looks at me, his eyes filled with worry. “I can't talk about it.”
“You can’t tell me what he said?” I ask, my brow furrowing as I try to understand.
He shakes his head.
“Then just know I’m here for you,” I say, pulling him into a hug. “It doesn't matter to me what he said. You matter to me.”
His arms wind around me as our bodies press tight to one another as if that’s how we belong. He buries his face in my neck, holding on to me like he's afraid of letting go.
“I'm sorry for whatever he did or said, and I’m sorry it’s affecting you so much,” I whisper. “And I didn't mean what I said before. There’s more than just attraction between us.” I can’t put words to what I feel, but he deserves that much at least.
He pulls away from me, his eyes searching mine. Then, without warning, he kisses me fiercely again, his hands roaming over my body.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers against my lips. “You help me forget everything else for a while.”
I don't hesitate. I kiss him back just as fiercely, my own desire taking over. We stumble to the bed, shedding clothes along the way.
