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“What the hell are you doing in here?” I set my briefcase down and stalk across the room to her.

She scratches her head and rubs her eyes. “I fell asleep. What time is it?”

“Time for you to go to your own room.” I jerk the blanket off her, very aware that I’m taking my anger at myself out on her. But then I see she’s naked, and it takes me a minute because fuck, I want her. I want to be inside her again. Hear her breathe my name. I want to hold her. Feel her warmth when I kiss her.

These weeks of avoiding her have done nothing to lessen my desire. And this is exactly why I can’t be near her.

She stretches her arms over her head, back arcing, making her breasts jut out toward me. It’s feline, the movement, and sensual as hell.

I take her arm and haul her up. She resists. “How did you get out of your room, Mercedes? And into mine?” Lois knows to lock it after she cleans, and Miriam should be locking Mercedes’s bedroom door every night.

“Stop. Jesus. You’re hurting me.”

With a sigh, I let her go. She rubs her arm but doesn’t cover herself, and my gaze sweeps over her, taking in the dark, hard nipples and her shaved sex. I scrub the scruff on my jaw, which needs shaving, and try to look away.

“What time is it?” she asks, glancing at the clock. She yawns, appearing at home. She clearly isn’t having the same struggle I am.

I strip off my jacket and set it over the back of the chair, then unbutton my vest.

“Your brother paid me a visit tonight.”

Her forehead furrows. “He came here? I didn’t see him. Didn’t he want to see me?”

“Not here,” I lie, leaving out the part about him stopping by here first. “The office.” I busy myself taking off the vest, undoing the buttons of my shirt, then remove the links from my cuffs and set them on the tabletop before taking off my shirt.

“Oh.” I don’t have to see her to know she’s still hurt by the fact.

“He asked me about our kiss at the compound the night of the party.”

She clenches her jaw, raises her chin, ever stubborn. “What did you tell him?”

“That you did it to skew the conversation from something embarrassing for you to something that would make all your little girlfriends jealous.”

“They’re not my friends.”

“Not the point.”

“Was he angry?”

“He was concerned.”

“Well, he shouldn’t be. I’m an adult. He gets to have his own life on his terms, and I want my own.” She gets up out of the bed and comes to stand a few inches from me. “And I don’t deserve how you’re treating me. You’ve been punishing me for weeks because you’re angry with yourself, and it’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair.”

“You think I don’t know that. Me?”

I grit my jaw.

“You’re supposed to be different, Judge.”

“I’m a man, Mercedes. And you’re fucking hard to resist, but I need to do just that. For both our sakes.”

“No, you don’t. Not for my sake.”

She puts her hands on my chest, and I physically move her out of the way to walk into the bathroom, where I switch on the shower. Ice cold. I expect her to follow me in. She does but instead of coming into the stall, she just leans against the doorframe, watching me as I stand under the spray. When it’s clear she won’t go away, I switch off the water, step out, and dry off. She follows me into the bedroom, where I pull on a pair of pajama pants.

“What do you want out of this, Mercedes? You know I won’t marry.”


Tags: A. Zavarelli The Rite Trilogy Erotic