The end result will be worth it. I’ve been fighting back my sexual needs for days, but I can only last so long. I made progress today in my office. She’s craving sex just as much as I am. Or almost. I can smell her want. Her need. I can see the desire in her eyes.
She claims it’s the joy she finds in pushing my buttons, but there is more to it. I can tell when a woman wants me. I’m not vain. I’m not narcissistic. I know I have a sex appeal women fall for. If I didn’t have it, I would have had to master my charm to get inside a woman’s panties.
Thankfully I don’t need to work on my personality.
Until Gia. She fights me off with every ounce of willpower she has. A woman with her natural beauty and sex appeal who needs no help from surgeons or makeup artists should understand what it’s like to have people falling at your feet.
Maybe she’s tired of it too. The easy sex. Maybe this is her foreplay. Playing hard to get. The chase. It isn’t what I’m into, but neither is watching romantic comedies or eating pizza from my lap or drinking wine samples at my vineyard.
And neither is marriage.
Only, the marriage is a farce. A means to an end. One more step toward my goal. A goal that I get closer and closer to every day.
***
“Your legs are longerthan mine. I ran faster though,” Gia whines between breaths.
She surprised me this morning by showing up in my office in her running clothes, challenging me to a race of endurance.
“I believe you said this wasn’t a sprint but a nice leisurely run around the vineyard.”
“I figured you’d have trails. I hadn’t anticipated the rocky ground or dodging vines and wheelbarrows. You should put in a path along the edge that leads down to the water.”
“Sore loser, I see.”
“It wasn’t a race.” She swats at my chest.
I took off my sweatshirt and T-shirt a mile into our run, and she ditched her top, running in a sports bra and leggings. I deserve a fucking medal for not dropping her the ground and fucking her brains out down by the shore.
I watch as a bead of sweat falls from her neck and makes a river in between her breasts. We walk the final half-mile to cool down, stopping at the pool house for a bottle of water. I put on a clean shirt and sweatshirt from the closet, and we make our way back to the house.
“Shall we do a treadmill challenge next time?”
“Boring. Only when it’s cold and rainy out.”
“Don’t think you could keep up?”
“Please.” She snorts and hip-checks me.
I like how free she feels around me now. Although, her behavior will have to change in public. It’s okay for her to be more relaxed in the safety of my home and around my staff. When I take her out, when I need her to play a part in my plan, she’ll have to be prepared.
“I can think of a hundred other challenges I’d like to take on with you.” I pin her to the archway with my gaze.
Her breath hitches as her amber eyes lift to mine. I lean into her, placing my hands on the wall above her head. She looks so small and helpless. No, not helpless. That’s the Gia from last week.
This morning, she’s red and sweaty, and on fire. She licks her lips in invitation, but I don’t want her mouth. I want to fuck.
Someone clears their throat, which has me glaring over my shoulder and Gia ducking under my arms.
“I apologize, sir. I sent you a message when he arrived.” Tio nods toward the inside of my office where Father Paul Michael sits, watching.
I fumble for the pocket of my running shorts and take out my phone. Sure enough, Tio has left two voicemails and four texts. Somehow, I missed them. My ringer is on and the phone is set to vibrate as well. Running, laughing, and teasing Gia distracted me from hearing it.
Not good.
“Father Paul Michael. I wasn’t expecting you until later.” I reach for Gia’s hand—something new to me yet I do it out of instinct—and step into my office.
“One of my parishioners passed away last night and the family is in need of my prayers. I apologize for coming so early.”