the floor, revealing the chest that’s haunting me.
I quickly look down at the pile of material, my mind reeling. His chest. His perfect damn chest. “What are you doing?”
“I have no fucking idea.” He reaches for me and slides a hand around my neck, pulling me to him. Our chests meet, and my determination to repel him vanishes under our connection. Wrongs turn into rights. Conflict turns into craving.
“I can’t get you out of my head, Annie.” His forehead meets mine, his palm massaging away the tightness in my neck muscles, softening me up until I relax in his hold. “I want you all over again, and I can’t even find the will to worry about how much more that’ll make me want you.” He breathes down on me. “I’ve played that night on repeat. I’ve dreamed of holding you in my arms again. I’ve craved the sound of your voice, the feel of your touch, the softness of your lips on mine. I know I shouldn’t want you. But I do. Nothing has ever made me feel this insane with need. Nothing has taken up so much space in my head. I can’t fucking help it, Annie.” His gray gaze sinks into me, my heart steadying to an even thrum. His head starts to shake mildly, his splayed hand moving up to the back of my head and fisting my hair. “I don’t want to help it,” he growls. “I want you. I don’t care how wrong it is.” His clenched fist tightens, gripping my hair harshly. “I know I’ve been on your mind since I fucked you every which way in that hotel room. Stop denying it. Don’t insult me and tell me you don’t crave that amazing feeling all over again. I can see it in your eyes every damn time I look into them. You. Want. Me.”
It’s me who moves in first. All me. I lunge forward and smash my lips to his, the magnetic force winning. His words winning. Jack winning. My heart winning. I coax his mouth open with hard, hungry kisses. I’ve lost my mind to a craving too powerful to fight off. And, like Jack, I don’t care how wrong it is.
Lost.
Yet as he walks me backward until my back slams into the wall, I feel found again.
I cry out, and Jack moans. We’re clumsy and desperate. He’s pushing me up the wall with the force of his kiss, then he’s rolling away, taking me with him until it’s his back slamming into the wall. It’s the elevator all over again. The atmosphere is sizzling. I’m on fire. He scoops me up, pinning me to him, and carries me into my bedroom. I focus on him. Only him and the return of feelings that I’ve fantasized about since that unforgettable night. All the guilt is abandoning me, and I let it, unprepared to let anything stop me from taking the forbidden.
He lowers me to my feet, keeping our kiss up, and starts to unfasten his trousers while I pull at the waistband, desperate to get them off.
“Steady,” he mumbles against my lips, considerably calmer than before, probably because he has me now. We’re both on the same page. Neither of us are prepared to settle for that one time. It’s made us insatiable. It’s teased us. It’s intensified the desire and anticipation, because now we know what to expect. Now we know that our minds are going to be blown in the best possible way. Now we know that him plus me equals amazing. I can’t resist him. I’ve tried; I’ve tried so bloody hard. I want him. Need him.
Taking my grappling hands gently, he holds them between our bodies and breaks our kiss, making me reach up on my tippy-toes to try to maintain the connection. His gray eyes are glimmering brightly, full of want and desperation.
“I want it to be slow,” he murmurs, pulling my dress up over my head and casting it aside. “I want to take my time and enjoy the fact that I have you again.” Lowering his mouth to my shoulder, he kisses it gently, sending a million bolts of pleasure straight to my groin.
I moan loudly, my eyes closing while he works his mouth across my flesh. He slides his hands up my sides and rests them on my waist.
“I made a promise to myself, Annie. I promised myself that if the Fates brought you back to me, I wouldn’t let you go.” Lifting me high to his chest, he carries me to the bed, looking up at me, my hands draped around his neck. “And now you’re here.”
Lowering me, he pulls off my knickers and gets me comfortable on my back, and then rises to his full height, standing over me as he strips his legs of his trousers—taking his sweet time about it, testing my patience. I’ve put the blockers on any thoughts that try to enter my mind. I’m frightened that the absent guilt and my conscience will return at any moment and stop me from taking him.
“Please hurry,” I breathe, watching as he slowly reveals himself to me. I go lax on the bed, enraptured by the sight of him, my eyes making a slow journey across his skin, soaking up every tiny piece of him. If there was any hope of me repelling Jack Joseph, it’s just been squashed. My mind is taking mental pictures of him and locking them away tightly. His melt-worthy, naked frame is poised above me, his cock jutting from his groin, visibly throbbing.
His chest expands and he rests a knee on the mattress, followed by a fist near my head to hold himself up. Looking down between my thighs, he starts to shake a little, swallowing hard. For a fleeting moment, I worry that he’s had second thoughts, but then his other hand rests on the inside of my thigh and pushes it wide, encouraging me to open up to him. “Put your arms above your head,” he orders softly, glancing up at me.
I obey without question, despite needing to touch him and feel him. He reaches between his legs and takes hold of his cock, my eyes following with fascination as he works a few, slow strokes across his velvet flesh. A glimmer of pre-cum beads at the tip, and I lick my lips. “Watch,” Jack whispers, circling his wet head across my sex. I cry out, my body arching violently. “Watch, Annie.”
I start to moan as he rubs against me, spreading the wetness. “Jack!” I cry, forcing my arms to remain above my head.
“Just watch,” he affirms, and my eyes drop to between my legs, seeing his erection held firmly in his grasp. “Watch me sinking into you.” He dips a little, pushing into me a fraction. “Because we both know how fucking amazing it feels when I’m buried deep inside of you.”
Tormented whimpers come thick and fast, my core convulsing wildly, screaming for full penetration. “Jack, please…”
He looks up at me, his eyes wild with want. “Tell me how badly you want me.”
“Jack!”
“Tell me, Annie.” He withdraws and tactically swipes the slippery head of his cock from side to side across my sensitive flesh. I cry out, beginning to lose the plot. Jack nods, acknowledging my desperation. “I need to hear how badly you want me. Tell me and you can have me.”
“I want you!” I scream, sweat beads springing onto my brow. “Jack, I want you. Badly. More than anything I’ve ever wanted.”
“So I’m not crazy?”
“No!”
“I fucking knew it.” His jaw tightens as he levels up and advances, sliding into me with one long thrust. “Shit,” he chokes, falling to his forearms, his eyes clenching shut. He’s shaking terribly, vibrating all over me.
“Are you okay?” I ask, defying his request to keep my arms above my head, bringing them to his shoulders and holding him. He feels like he needs it.
I hear him swallow, gathering himself. “I’m fine,” he whispers, turning his lips onto my cheek and kissing me tenderly. “You make me feel so alive.”
I can’t help but smile, even if there’s a tinge of sadness in it. Because when you feel this alive, there’s only one way to go.
The scratches on his neck catch my eye and his wife’s face starts poking its way into my mind. I swallow, my thoughts running away with me again. “Don’t think about it,” he says, breaking into my reverie. “Please. Don’t think about anything but here and now.”
He finds my lips and kisses me slowly, swiveling his hips and grinding deeply, withdrawing and driving forward again. I suck in air and store it, holding my breath as Jack finds a meticulous pace that soon carries me away from the dirt tarnishing the moment, proving that it really is possible. In his arms, under his ardent attention, it is possible.
Our bodies work in complete harmony, like they
know each other soul deep, our tongues lapping lazily. He rolls us and pushes me up on his lap, mumbling and shaking his head when I grind down hard, feeling him hit my womb. Strong fingers dig into my thighs and hold tight, his cheeks puffing out as his gray eyes watch me riding him slowly. One hand comes up and claims my neck, pulling me down to his mouth. I maintain my rhythm, circling my hips onto him, kissing him like there’s no tomorrow. Fighting off the notion that there won’t be is harder than I want to admit, because that would be facing my reality. He’s not mine. I’m taking something that doesn’t belong to me.
“Annie,” he growls, like he’s read my thoughts, pushing me over to my back and slipping back in quickly. His face is stern, his jaw tight. “Stop.” He executes a perfect drive and holds himself deep and high, watching me unravel beneath him. “Focus on now. On this. On us.”
I shout my frustration, my back bowing on the bed as I fight the unwanted thoughts away. “Make me forget!” I yell, throwing my arms over his shoulders and clawing at his back, hiding my face in his neck.
“Damn it, Annie.” His pace speeds up, dousing my tormented conscience with a pleasure like no other. My eyes spring open, my hips flexing to meet his. “There she is,” Jack murmurs, nudging my face from its hiding place and slamming his mouth to mine, swallowing down my moans. Sinking his teeth into my bottom lip, he pulls away and stares down at me. “Your face is a fucking picture.”
“Jack,” I breathe, seizing the telltale pressure that’s settling in my core and locking it down. “Faster.”
He picks up his pace and pistons back and forth, our lovemaking turning frantic as we both search for our release. “Oh shit!” he yells, jacking himself up on his arms, getting more leverage behind his drives. His face is pouring with sweat, his gray eyes wide with wonder.
I can feel him expanding within me, the pressure getting too much. Jack’s head drops back, and he shouts to the ceiling, stilling suddenly above me. Then he jerks and the pulse of his cock, followed by a low, rough moan, signals he’s gone. One deep breath in, and his face twists as he withdraws and slowly pushes forward, the carefully calculated move taking me into ecstasy with him. My legs lock and I pull him down to my chest, tightening my inner muscles on slow, even pulls. Our moans are collective and full of fulfillment, and they stretch out for an age until both of our bodies go lax and we’re heaving against each other, trying to catch our breaths.
I feel totally overcome, almost relieved that this time was everything I remembered. Powerful, emotional, and mind-blanking. My thoughts sting. I shouldn’t be relieved. I should be panicking, because the thought of letting him go is about as painful as any.
I sink my nose into his neck and tighten my arms around his shoulders, clinging onto him. It feels so natural, so right, and when he responds, sighing despondently and holding me strongly, hopeless tears escape and stream down my cheeks.
“Stop,” Jack whispers, sounding as overcome by emotion as I am. “Please don’t cry.”
I shake my head into him, trying to rein it in, but I feel so fraught, unsure, and vulnerable. The feelings are new to me, and I have no idea what to do with them. There’s no doubt I’ve just increased the difficulty of my situation. I know I should have resisted him, pushed him away and stood firm, but my integrity and morals drown at the sight of him. My want for him, maybe even my greed, make it unbearably hard for me to reject him when he’s near. Not that he’s letting me. I’ve fallen into a black hole of hopelessness and though I know I need to drag myself out before I lose myself in it forever, I fear I’ll never be able to refuse him. I’m frightened to death that an addiction to Jack is rooting itself deep inside of me and I’m even more scared that I won’t let anything stand in my way of taking what I can get. Not my morals, not my conscience…and not even his wife.
The silence stretches for too long, leaving nothing but quiet for me to torture myself with. I can walk away. I can end this now. Yet my arms don’t release him until he pushes himself up, peeling his body from mine and slowly lifting his hips. His semi-erect cock slips free and he rolls to his back beside me, leaving me feeling abandoned and hurt. I glance across to him and find him staring at the ceiling, one arm splayed over his head, his other resting on his stomach. I want to know what he’s thinking. I also don’t want to know, so before I let my curiosity get the better of me, I get up from the bed and go to my bathroom, shutting the door behind me.
I look at my naked body in the mirror, reaching up to feel my damp cheeks. My nipples are still flushed pink with desire and the inside of my thigh is glistening with evidence of our combined release. Lifting my gaze to the reflection of my face, I see despondency in my green eyes. I also see words springing into the air around my head. Adulterer. Weak. Immoral. Heartless bitch. My hands meet the edge of the sink and my head drops, unable to face myself. I don’t know this woman. What have I become?
A light tap on the bathroom door interrupts my self-loathing thoughts and pulls my heavy head up. “Annie?” Jack’s soft voice is evidence that he knows damn well what I’m doing in here. Beating myself up. Ripping myself to shreds. “Can I come in?”
The lump in my throat won’t allow me to talk, so I nod like an idiot, even though he can’t see me. It’s beyond a stupid idea to invite him in, but stupid seems to be controlling me these days. The door quietly opens and his beautiful head peeks around nervously, searching me out. His brown hair is a mussed mess, his gray eyes still bright. It’s been minutes since I last saw him, but it’s like seeing him for the first time all over again. The thud of my heart, the rise of my body temperature. I stare at him in the reflection of the mirror, unwilling to look away. Or unable to. The understanding on his face nearly cripples me. He pushes the door all the way open and walks with purpose toward me, turning me around and yanking me into his chest, hugging me fiercely.
My emotions get too much to hold back. “This isn’t me.” I sob into his chest, finding comfort in the smell of his clean sweat. It’s something else that catapults me back to the night that I fear will haunt me forever.
“It’s not me, either, Annie.”
“Then why are we here?”
He lifts me to his body and encases me in his hold. “Because I know it’s where I should be,” he whispers, almost solemn.
My heart clenches in my chest painfully. I think every other person on the planet would disagree with Jack. He should be with his wife. Not here with me, and that notion pains me. I don’t know what’s happening. This is so crazy. He’s still virtually a stranger to me, but the thought of not seeing him again is unbearable. The question what now? hangs from my tongue, but something stops me from asking. It’s fear.
“Come,” he breathes, steadying me on my feet and taking my hand. “I need some caffeine.” Leading me through my apartment, he finds his way to my kitchen without any direction and indicates the cupboards. “Mugs?”
I smile, trying to disregard how perfect he looks standing naked in my kitchen. “Yes.”
He matches my smile, pulling two down. “Ask me how I knew that.”
“You’ve been breaking in and rummaging through my cupboards and drawers?”
He gives me a faint laugh, reaching for the cupboard that houses my coffee. “I knew because that is exactly the cupboard I would have put them in. And the coffee.” He reaches for the drawer where I keep my cutlery. “And the spoons are in here, right?”
“Right. And, amazingly, the milk is in the fridge.”
He shoves the drawer shut with a jerk of his arse, tapping the spoon on his palm as he regards me. He takes one step forward. I take one step back. He smirks. I smirk. Then he lunges forward threateningly, and I squeal as he seizes me, wrapping me in one solid arm and tickling me with his spare hand. “Jack!” I gasp, bucking against him. It’s futile; his weight and strength verses mine is always going to win. “Jack, stop!”
“Are you mocking me for having good cupboard awareness?”
“No, I love your cupboard awareness!” I lau
gh over my words, relishing his playfulness, his nakedness against mine, and the fact that he would have put the coffee cups in that cupboard, too.
I’m finally released from his torturing clutches and slapped on the arse. “Finish the coffee, gorgeous. I need the toilet.” He strides out. “Bet I know where you keep your spare loo rolls.”
I chuckle and finish off the coffees, before making tracks to find him. “Jack?”
“In here,” he calls. I follow the sound of his voice until I’m on the threshold of my studio. I find Jack’s naked body standing over my workbench, and I wander over to join him, finding him looking over the drawings for Colin’s extension. Glancing up at me, he smiles. “Annie the architect.”
I laugh softly, remembering him calling me that on the night I met him. “Jack the joker.”
Jack laughs, too, his eyes sparkling. “You loved my joke.”
I can’t deny it, so I don’t. “What are you looking at?”
“I’m just wondering why you chose bare brick for the internal wall of the extension.”
“Colin’s art is very modern. Almost industrial. The building is early nineteen-hundreds, and I thought—”
“The contrast of old and new would be striking,” he finishes for me, as if reading my mind.
“Exactly that.” My heart falls a little as Jack glances up at me, smiling mildly.
“Great minds.”
“Great minds,” I counter softly, handing him his coffee. It’s not only our bodies that work in complete harmony, but our thoughts, too. It scares me to think how perfect this man is for me. How stimulating, beyond our sexual chemistry.
Jack takes his coffee, seeming to fall into a daydream. I wonder if he’s having the same thoughts as me. But I don’t ask.
I do, however, ask him something. “Why?” I pull him from his daydreaming, and I don’t have to extend my question.
“Honestly?” he asks, prompting me to nod. Jack frowns and spends the next few seconds sipping his drink. Something tells me he’s buying some time, trying to figure out whether he should be honest. “I needed to let off some steam,” he tells me. I nearly spit my coffee out, forcing him to go on quickly. “I don’t mean getting fucked like that. I mean getting fucked in the drunken sense. Just so I could forget about…” He fades off and glances away from me, sighing as his eyes jump across my workbench.
I step back, studying his sudden despondent disposition. “Are you happy?”
“When I’m with you, I’m deliriously happy. I already told you that.”
“You know I don’t mean that.”
He smiles, but it’s a sad smile. “No, I’m not. But does it make the fact that I can’t stop thinking about you acceptable?”