don’t want to use them.’
‘Of course I want to.’ She was already fiddling with the mouse, tapping words. ‘Lorenzo, this is fantastic. Thank you so much—I love them.’
‘Okay.’ He felt the relief whistle through him. ‘Well, you want to work on them now? Then I’ll get them printed. You’ll be right on schedule.’
He went to the coffee machine. Hadn’t slept all night, didn’t need the hit now, but it was something to do. He glanced over to his workspace—she’d pulled up the seat and was busy adjusting his designs, experimenting with the text to go across the swirling design he’d created as her logo.
His heart thudded even more uncomfortably as the edge of panic sliced into him. He glanced at the door. This wasn’t just his place, but his escape—his private lair. So why the hell had he tainted it with her scent again? It had taken days to fade after the last time she’d been here—when he’d been stupidly sick. And her scent had tormented his fever then. It was swirling round him now—tempting, choking him.
He shouldn’t feel annoyed she was here—he’d invited her, after all. But now he wished he hadn’t. He needed to get out before he did something stupid. All he could see was the memory of her lush mouth sucking him in, the look in her eyes as she’d arched above him.
‘Um…’ he walked away ‘…I’m going for a run.’
She looked up from the computer. ‘Now?’
‘Uh-huh.’ He moved as fast as possible. If he didn’t the concrete would set around him and he’d be stuck completely.
As soon as he changed into shorts and trainers he got out onto the pavement and pushed it from the off. But with every pound of his feet the pull sharpened. It was like being torn in two. He pushed harder. Aimed to go further. But…he couldn’t fight it. Any hope of restraint faded. He turned back.
The door slammed behind him. His breathlessness didn’t ease. His erection grew harder. He’d run from her yet in less than twenty minutes was running back to her faster than before. His fingers curled tighter in his fists. She looked up as he strode across the room. He winced as her cool gaze swept over him. No way could she fail to see the state he was in. He walked across the room.
‘You’re going to shower?’
He nodded and strode faster. The torment infuriated him. He faced the shower head, turning the jet onto full power. Not caring that the gush of water was slightly too hot and needling his nipples. His sensitive nipples. He’d managed to go without all kinds of things before—why not now? He braced his hands on the wall and pushed his face into the rush of water, wanting to wash away the desire he felt for her. Wanting the emptiness back. It was easier—so much easier.
A hand slipped around his body. He gasped as she grasped his straining erection. He could feel her soft body against his back. And then her other arm wrapped round him too, her fingers teasing circles around one of those too sensitive nipples—tormenting him further. ‘Sophy, don’t.’ The words hurt. Everything hurt.
‘Do you really mean that?’
‘You don’t know what will happen.’
Her mouth moved across the skin stretching across his tense shoulders. ‘Don’t I?’
He pushed harder against the wall with his hands, desperate to thrust his hips. This would all be over in a second if he didn’t get a grip. But it was her grip that tightened—pulling up his length with faster, harder strokes.
‘Sophy.’ He whirled around and pulled her close.
She shivered as he brushed his lips up the length of her neck in the gentlest ever touch—the sweeping caress a complete contrast to the rough, hard hold of his hands. He struggled to soften that hold—but couldn’t, so made his kisses light instead.
‘I want you so bad,’ he confessed.
‘That’s not a bad thing.’
Oh, but it was. The water thundered in his ears. She was so soft—so heart-meltingly soft. But it was because she was so soft that he should be staying away. Instead he leaned into her, his lips trailing over her jaw, sucking her lip. He felt the insane need to touch strengthen again. His need to be with her was unstoppable now.
‘Are you too sore?’ He tried to slow down—they had been so physical yesterday and he was sure she must be tender.
‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’
She arched, lifted her legs to curl them around his thighs—opening to give him all access. And as he felt the wet heart of her sliding against him he lost it. Couldn’t stop now even if he tried, the last shred of control gone. His hands moved, fingers gripping tight, holding her so she couldn’t move.
He was hardly conscious of her cries as he mindlessly pumped deeper and deeper, growling as he strove for the bliss only a stroke or two away.
Instinctive, elemental, shattering—peace.
For a long moment he remained still, rammed into her body, trying to stop his weak shuddering in the aftermath. The hot water cascaded over him but inside the chill was spreading fast and painfully. So out of control. He’d been so hopelessly out of control. He didn’t even know if—
Oh, God, what had he done?
‘Better now?’ She ran her hand lightly down the side of his neck.
He screwed his eyes shut, wanting to reject her touch.
Because, no, he was not better. His body might be spent, but he still wasn’t satisfied. He didn’t know if he ever would be. The feelings scared him. He couldn’t suppress them. It had never happened before. Never been like this. ‘I’m sorry.’ He shook his head and made himself look at her. ‘You didn’t have time.’ Hell—had he hurt her?
‘Didn’t I?’
He saw a smile stretch her puffy lips, the pure satisfaction glowing from inside out. ‘Really?’ But it didn’t ease his conscience.
She closed her eyes, tilted her head to let the water flow over her face.
Her beauty hurt him. Everything about her hurt him.
Because he could have hurt her. He wouldn’t even have known—certainly wouldn’t have been able to stop. In those moments just now, he’d totally lost it. The wild animal he knew was caged inside him had been freed—he’d been operating on blind, raw emotion and been utterly unable to think, to be aware of anything but his need to let that emotion have free rein. Just as he had all those years ago. Only then he’d pulverised some random person’s car—had taken a bat to it in a blind rage, had smashed and destroyed, his anger thermonuclear. Unstoppable. Uncontrollable. Terrifying.
Loss of control over his emotions was unacceptable. It didn’t matter what emotion—lust was as bad as anger. And if he’d lost it over one, he could lose it over another just as easily. The years of hard work, the self-discipline gained from physical training and concentration meant nothing now. He’d thought he could manage it? He didn’t have a hope.
And hurting anyone—hurting
