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Memoriesof how sexually compatible they’d been flashed through her brain—how they both liked it a bit rough in the bedroom.Shestill had a pair of handcuffs they’d used in her drawer.They’dnever beenFiftyShadeslevel, but they had liked to play.Pleasureand pain, mixed together.
Sheshivered at the scratch of his new beard against her skin.
Inthe five years since they’d dated, she’d been with other men but never allowed the relationships to get emotional.Thegoal was always one thing: sex.Anythingmore than that was off the table.ButkissingKrishnow, she remembered how the mental connection sharpened her desire, stoked it into a white hot flame.
Itwasn’t the act that got her off; it was the person.
Allshe could focus on was how she wanted to undo his shorts, slip her pants to the side, and slide him into her.Theurgent need to do just that had her holding onto him, one hand around his neck, the other reaching down towards his snaps.
Thepling of the metal popping coincided with his hand folding over hers, stopping her.
‘Francesca, we can’t,’ he said, his breath hot against her cheek.Hiskisses slowed and ceased.Withone hand, he unhooked her feet from around his waist and lowered her to the floor.
Fora moment, dizziness overwhelmed her, and she grabbed the fabric of his shirt to hold herself up.Butthen it passed, and the reality of the last five minutes—had it only been five minutes?—dampened her ardour.Herbreath lost its haste.Whatthe hell had they just been doing?Whathad the past five years been for, if not to keep her away from him?Tendays in the same office and she was panting for him like a horny puppy.Sheslipped out from the space between him and the door and went to her desk.Lookingover her shoulder, she saw him lean his hands on the door, his head hanging low.Regretand guilt emanated from him.
Shehad two choices in front of her.
One.Acknowledgethat they still had feelings for each other.Tellhim the truth.Lethim fully into her world and see if he might choose her.Thethought of doing that made her heart beat faster with both hope and terror.Shewasn’t stupid.Sheknew what his answer would be.
Two.Pushhim away and do what she did best.Closeherself off.Don’tlet anyone get close.Justsurvive.
Shedidn’t even have to think about it.
‘Shit.’Krishturned and leaned his back against the door, dropping his head into his hands.Bigmistake.Hecould smell her on his fingers.Hecrossed his arms, tucking his hands away.Whathad they been doing?Inthe frenzy, he remembered biting her on the neck, sucking on her nipples. ‘I’msorry.Idon’t know what came over me.’
‘Don’tworry.Itwas a mistake.’Shepulled her dress down over her hips.Thered marks where his fingers had been disappeared under the fabric.
Heshould have had more self-control.Thiswas his fault. ‘I’msorry.I—’
‘Krish, stop apologising.Ithink we’re grown up enough to know that it took two people.’
She’djumped into his arms, and the feel of her and the smell of her…it had taken him back to a time when they were different people.Eversince he’d seen her at the wedding, some part of him had wanted to kiss her, to—
Suddenlythe picture of the woman he planned to propose to next weekend swam into his vision. ‘I’mgoing to have to tellJesswhat happened.’
‘No, you bloody well won’t.’
‘Iwon’t lie to her.’He’dalready lied by omission once by not giving her the full backstory onFrancesca.Hecouldn’t add a second untruth to the tally.Thatwasn’t the kind of relationship he wanted to have.
Francescaturned and skewered him with her eyes.Inthem, he saw no warmth, just pure determination. ‘Krish, what happened just now didn’t mean anything.Haveyour feelings towardsJesschanged in the past five minutes?’
Didn’tmean anything?He’dbeen moments away from having sex with another woman.No, not just another woman:Francesca. ‘No, of course not, but—’
‘Thendon’t be selfish.’Shetook a step towards him. ‘Tellingher may makeyoufeel better, but it’ll only serve to make her feel bad when there’s no need.’Pokingthe air between them with a sharp finger, she said, ‘Ifyou tell her about this, thenI’mnot going to shoot theBlenheimwedding with you.’
‘Youcan’t be serious.’Hewouldn’t be able to find anybody else to do the work that he trusted as much as he trustedFrancesca.Sheknew that.Herwords cut like a betrayal.
‘I’mcompletely serious, soI’llbe clear:Idon’t have feelings for you.Nothingis going to happen between you and me so…you’d only be fucking up your own life.’
Leaveit toFrancescato put it so succinctly.
Shetucked a strand of hair calmly behind her ear and stood up straight, as though the kiss—and everything after—really had meant nothing to her. ‘I’llbe out of your hair as soon as this wedding is done.We’llshoot it, and then you’ll never have to see me again.’
Hisheart unexpectedly squeezed at the thought, even as he knew it would be for the best.
Francescamotioned for him to move. ‘Anyway, get out of the way.Ineed the toilet and you’ve got a ukulele class to get to.’
Realisinghe was still blocking the door that they’d been pressed up against moments ago, he stepped aside and opened it.Shewalked out with her eyes fixed straight ahead, her scent brushing past as she walked by.Heheard the click of the toilet door.
