Page 38 of Four Cards Exposed

That was all her traitorous heart heard, even as she tried to listen to the things he wasn’t saying.

“We can’t be together, though. I’m not … I’m not right for you, Susan.”

“I like the way you say my name.”

“I shouldn’t say your name.”

“Because I’m meant to be someone else? Milena?”

He shook his head slowly. “Because I’m me, and I can’t be what you need. Not now, not ever.”

Anger, sharp as a glass shard, penetrated the bubble of happiness and desire that surrounded her. “What do you know of what I want, what I need, James? You don’t know me at all.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “I’ve seen the way you look at Natalie and Hunter, at Rob and Emma, at Darryl and Jessy. I know you want that, too.”

“So what if I do?” she huffed out.

He raised his hands in a placating manner. “Nothing. You deserve it, Susan. You deserve a man who can give you that. But that’s exactly what I can’t give you. What I’ll never be able to give you. I’m meant to be alone.”

“I don’t understand.” Her tongue felt leaden in her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and she realized his mind was made up. “We’ll spend the night here tonight. That’s what Moore will expect. I’ll sleep on the floor. Tomorrow, we’ll—”

Before she could talk herself out of it, Susan crossed the distance between them and pressed herself against James’s chest. He felt warm and strong, and his straining muscles told her just how much he wanted her.

Despite his words, he wanted her.

He wants me.

Her fingers splayed out on his wide chest, right over his beating heart. “Let’s not pretend. Let’s give each other tonight. Let’s give each other what we both need.”

Her words dragged a ragged groan from him. Suddenly, his hands were on her waist, and she was flying. James set her down gently on the kitchen counter, his hands searing her hips.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, gazing into her eyes. “I can’t fucking resist you.”

Neither of them moved, but suddenly their mouths came together again, lips and teeth and tongue clashing together, the desire so strong that stars burst behind her eyes.

She gave herself into the kiss, no longer holding anything back, kissing him so he would have no choice but to feel just how much she wanted him. She ground her hips against him shamelessly, getting closer to the proof that, whatever else he might say, he wanted her. And it had been so long since she’d wanted a man—any man.

Her desire was even more potent precisely because she hadn’t felt desire in such a long time—had forgotten what it felt like, even.

A near-death experience will do that to you.

You spend enough time locked in an airless trunk, suffocating … and surprise, surprise, sex stops being a priority.

She pushed the thought into the far recesses of her mind. Now wasn’t the time to think—it was the time to feel. With James, there was no fear. She knew she could trust him. Whatever happened, she knew this desire, this wanting, was safe.

His stubble scratched against her mouth and she pulled even closer, searching for more, hating that she had to come up for air, that she had to break the kiss.

“Let’s go to bed,” she panted.

* * *

James

His eyes caught on the red marks on her cheek—marks he’d put there, by rubbing his beard against her soft skin.

What are you doing?