He reached behind his neck and grabbed both of my wrists in his hands. He threaded his fingers through mine as he kept our hands between our chests. He pulled back, away from me. He sighed and shifted backwards on the desk so that he was sitting ram-rod straight. And then he looked everywhere except at me as he adjusted himself. The loss of that connection stung me. Maybe I’d pushed him too far?
His divorce had only come through a little over a month ago.
What were you thinking?
He was still clearly upset over everything with Jenna and Richard. He was hurting over not being able to be with his daughter every day.
Why the fuck did you throw yourself at him like some brazen hussy?
I could feel the sting behind my eyes turn into hot, embarrassed tears.
Christ, give the man a chance.
Even my thoughts were mocking me.
Maybe the whole thing had been a mistake? A lapse of judgement?
“What’s wrong, Quincy?” He brought my hands flush to his chest and caressed my cheek. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not.” I replied my voice a watery whimper.
He raised his brows, looking at me like I was cuckoo. Great.
“What just happened? Did I miss something?” His eyes rounded in panic. “Did I do something wrong?”
My throat felt so choked I couldn’t even get words out. I just sniffed and shook my head.
Well, if I hadn’t already scared him off the least I could do was repulse him too.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t…” I focused on one of his research books on the desk, “I didn’t mean to…I know everything is a mess, I just—”
“Hey,” He tilted my face up to his. I could feel my stupid tears running down the sides of my face and into my ears. “Let’s be clear about something.”
He kissed the tip of my nose and wiped the wet trails from my flushed skin with his thumbs.
“Just so you know.” He pulled the hem of my silk, cream shirt out of my blue trousers and inched his hands up to my waist. “I am going to wine and dine you. I’m going to date you, because regardless of how instinctually we know each other, you deserve it.”
His hands met behind my back before he slipped them into the top of my trousers. He worked them all the way down so he could grab a butt cheek in each hand.
He’d only ever touched me like that once before. Shit, my skin felt like it was bubbling and popping with the heat spreading through it.
I couldn’t thread the words to argue with him if I tried. He squeezed and kneaded my flesh with his hands. Bringing me even closer to him as his touch got heavier and purposeful.
“I’m desperate to get inside you, Quincy, but first I need to romance you.” He whispered roughly in my ear as my hands fell to his thighs.
“I don’t care about any of that. Your divorce—”
“I. Care.” His blue eyes were dark and smouldering. “It’s been two years, and even before that…”
“Don’t Jamie.” My voice was breathy and desperate.
“Don’t what? Be honest?”
“Don’t say something you can’t take back.”
“Like what?”