Always before it had been easy for her to set boundaries, to walk away and not look back. Fear of getting hurt had outweighed desire and loneliness.
Della had known that, and had understood why she felt that way, but she had never judged or pushed her to change. And up until now Dora had never wanted to change—never felt any urge to let someone get close. She couldn’t give someone the power to hurt her.
Only with Charlie she felt different. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted any man. And he had made her feel wanted, made her feel special.
But this was not the right time. He was not the man to let under her skin.
She glanced at her naked body. Maybe it was a little late to start worrying about
it, but right now at least, everything was contained, confined to what had happened here in this room. It could still come under the heading of ‘a bit of fun’—or even that most overused of clichés, ‘a mistake’.
Her stomach twisted with panic. Except it didn’t feel like a mistake. In fact it hurt her not to reach out and touch him.
‘You know what I mean,’ he said.
His voice was quiet, steady, and she felt herself grow calmer.
‘This—you and me—is a bad idea. I know that logically, and yet I don’t want to stop.’
She felt his dark eyes rest on her face.
‘And I don’t think you do either.’
She wanted to lie, to deny his words, but he was being honest with her in a way that reminded her of Della. Suddenly her breathing was snarled up.
Was this how it had started for Della with Lao Dan? Temptation disguised as truth? And then a tangle of feelings, shared and unrequited, ending with an unplanned pregnancy?
‘I don’t do relationships.’ Lifting her chin, she leaned in slightly, wanting to see his reaction.
The tension between them was suddenly quivering like a telephone wire in a high wind.
‘I don’t do them either. But I wouldn’t really classify what I’m offering as a “relationship”.’
His hand flexed against her back as he spoke, and she felt something inside her twitch in response. The room felt smaller, hotter.
‘So what you want is some kind of “friends with benefits” arrangement?’ she said slowly.
Had she actually said that out loud?
She felt his body harden beneath her and knew that she had.
‘We don’t need to overthink this, Dora. What I want is you. And you want me. It’s been that way since I walked into that lawyers’ office in London and you told me to keep my money.’
He shifted his legs, tipping her forward slightly so that she was forced to grab his shoulders to regain her balance. She felt her nipples brush against his bare chest and her abdomen tensed.
‘I do want you,’ she said. It wasn’t fair of him to use her body against her. ‘But, like you said, me and you...it’s a terrible idea.’
Dipping his head slightly, he ran his tongue lightly over her lips and she breathed in sharply.
‘Actually, I said “bad”, not “terrible”. And if we wanted different outcomes then, yes, that would be true. We would be pulling in different directions. But we want the same thing.’
He was right. She could feel the pull between them. Feel her body reacting eagerly, viscerally, to what he was suggesting even as it searched for tripwires in his logic.
‘I want more of this, Dora,’ he said softly.
She was silent, her mind racing in time to the pulse beating between her thighs. Again, she wanted to deny, to lie. In her experience the truth hurt too much to confront it. Only the truth here was that she wanted Charlie. And the idea of this being the last, the only time they had sex, hurt more than acknowledging that out loud.
And how would she get hurt anyway? She knew what was on offer. There were no unknowns. There would be no unrequited feelings or broken promises. No need to think beyond the bedroom—or the library. In fact, no need to think at all.