"Then go."
He stared at me for a long moment, looking sad. For a moment, I had the instinct to comfort him, but then I remembered that his sadness was a result of his actions five years ago.
"You brought this on yourself."
He nodded. "I know. I am desperate to make this right between us." He held up his hand to stop me from responding to that. I'm sure he knew I was going to tell him there was no fixing what he did.
"I know you're adamant that there's nothing I can do that will have you forgiving me and giving me another chance. I was twenty-one years old, Kate. I was faced with an impossible decision."
I shook my head because I didn't want to feel sorry for him. It wasn't that I didn't know he was put in a tough position. I knew that Sandra’s showing up with his child would complicate things. But he had other choices.
"If I had more time to think things through, I would've made a different choice. You and I would be together. Would you please let me tell you what happened?"
"Like I said, it won't change anything."
He stepped closer to me, but with my desk butted up against my thighs. I couldn't retreat any further.
"Let's start over. A brand-new slate. I'll go out to the bar and make you Martini."
The earnestness in his eyes touched me, but I couldn't allow that. "Not this time.” I should have stayed home and done my homework instead of attending the college party five years ago.
Sure, I wouldn’t have known the joy of love, but then I wouldn’t have learned it was all a sham and experienced the pain.
He stepped closer, and I could feel frustration vibrating off him. “I've learned my lesson."
"Even if we could start over, it wouldn't work. I'm not the woman I was back when we first met."
"I'm not the man I was when we first met. I’m better. I promise."
"In trying to recreate what we had—"
His finger pressed over my lips, and I swallowed back the groan his touch elicited.
He brought his finger away, putting his hands on my shoulders. "We’re older and wiser. We've grown and changed, but the connection between us is still there. The fact that for the last five years, I've lived in agony over losing you is proof. Please, Kate. Give me a chance to show you.”
Being this close to him sent my emotions and my hormones into a tizzy. I couldn't think straight. The only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted what he was offering. I wanted to feel cherished and desired again.
“Don’t tell me you don’t feel it.” His gaze drifted to my lips, and I longed for him to kiss me. “The connection is still there. Here.” He took my hand and pressed it over his heart. This close to him, I was helpless to fight the yearning.
I gripped his shirt and tugged him to me, pressing my lips over his.
He groaned, his hands sliding around me. “Kate.”
“Don’t talk.” My hands slid through the opening of his shirt, touching his warm, hard chest. A flood of desire rushed to my belly and below. All I could think was, “touch me.” Just for a moment, I wanted to be loved.
He unzipped my dress, pushing it down until it pooled on the floor. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.” He licked my nipple.
My fingers laced through his hair, pulling him closer until he sucked on my nipple, making me cry out. I fumbled at his pants, desperate to feel him. He pushed my hands away and set me on the desk.
He looked at me.
“Don’t stop.” If he hesitated, I’d be forced to confront what I was doing.
He kissed me, his lips trailing down my neck and lower, until he sank down on his knees and pushed my thighs open.
He made anmmmsound as he inhaled. “You always had the sweetest, hottest pussy.”
I gripped his head and pulled. What part of “don’t talk” did he not get?