by Rose Lange
Continuing his seductive tease, he pressed kisses along the bottom of her foot as he softly massaged with great care, slowly moving up toward her ankle. Heavenly, that’s what this feels like. Laying her head back, she felt her lids drift shut, but snapped them back open.
This was something she didn’t want to miss.
“Patrick, this really isn’t necessary,” she said, although it seemed pointless to speak.
Not stopping, he raised an eyebrow and moved to her ankles, massaging them with the same great care. She bit her lower lip. She’d love nothing more than to wake up next to Patrick, the two of them rumpled from no sleep and plenty of sex to make up for six years.
If she didn’t put an end to this, the last of her good sense would fly the coop. She withdrew her foot, giving him the green light to crawl over her, until they were face to face, until they were face to face. His chest meshed against hers. She became hyper aware that she really wasn’t wearing very much.
Well, fuck me to the moon and back.
She swallowed the lead saucer in her throat, unable to tear her gaze away. Placing his hands on either side of her face, Patrick caressed her cheeks ever so gently before moving to her mouth. He rubbed the sensitive skin back and forth. Helplessly, she bit down on her lower lip, drawing his sumptuous emerald eyes downward.
Right then and there, she was done for. He was as affected by her as she was by him. She could tell by the intense and wicked glimmer in his eyes. The same exact one he’d had before their first kiss, years ago.
Finally, she found her voice. “Patrick. Please.”
“Please, stop? Or, please go?” He dropped his hands to either side of her torso, until his chest pressed nicely against her breasts.
No, oh hell no. Please kiss me. Those words sat on the edge of her tongue, but she held back. Sucking her belly in, she found herself unable to move. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think with him this close to her. This close. Those familiar, knowing lips only a mere few inches away. Those familiar, exquisite eyes studying her, and almost forcing her to—
Tempting as he was, she couldn’t sleep with someone she worked with, couldn’t even think of going down that path again.
Emma fought the urge to flee. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest, from nerves or his nearness, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that nobody had ever elicited this type of reaction out of her, not even her fool of an ex-boyfriend. Patrick, on the other hand, knew how to push her buttons, and would purposely push them. Hell, he was already pushing them.
Gathering herself, she placed her hands flat on his chest. “Yes, please stop.” She cringed as her voice shook.
Lord have mercy, it had been too long since she’d experienced any kind of physical contact from a man. Betraying her own words, she slid her hands toward his shoulders and around his neck, her breath intermingled with his, and nobody spoke. Taking her time, she caressed his broad shoulders and nicely shaped muscles. What she wouldn’t give to rip the shirt off and explore, sliding her hands over beautiful bare skin.
She met his eyes, full of questions and loaded with desire. Yet he didn’t move.
Desire made her want to give in like something fierce.
But the past loomed over her, a dark, stormy, and obnoxious raincloud snapping her mind back to the present. She removed her hands, and gently tapped him on the chest. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
Her breath caught as he moved to brush a lock of hair away from her face. He met her gaze head on. “Do you ever think about Greece, our time together?”
Mutely, she nodded. She didn’t dare speak, because honestly, she didn’t know what to say.
Yes, all the time. You rocked my world, and I want you so damn bad I can practically taste it. I can practically still taste you. I’ve been in love with you for longer than I can remember. And it hurt like hell when you disregarded me after that intense week in Greece.
That was what she wanted to say. Those thoughts had been a heavy burden on her shoulders for years, but instead she said, “Yes.”
A powerful hand trailed down toward her cheek, smoothing over her lips. Gently, he rubbed the lower lip back and forth, as if to recall the passions they shared. Her heart banged against her chest as he framed her face. Surely, he would kiss her. The memories of the past shone from his gaze, as if he’d remembered each day, each night with her on that island.
Her memories drifted even further back. The first time she’d met him came to mind with stunning clarity, and her stomach clenched.
The summer she’d turned sixteen, and they’d buried her father, three weeks earlier. She and her mom moved to the neighborhood. He’d discovered her on the back stoop, clutching her father’s picture, and crying. It had been the first time she’d met Patrick. He’d consoled her, and from then on it had been history. Her feelings grew before she could stop them.
Various emotions rattled her brain, and tears nearly misted her eyes. She forced them away, and didn’t even think before she spoke. “Why, Patrick?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you pretend as though I didn’t exist?”
Her question caught him off guard as he backed up slightly. Some dark emotion, regret maybe, crossed his handsome features. Secrets poured from his eyes. Secrets she knew he didn’t wish to divulge, as though the past had come back to haunt him.
He awkwardly cleared his throat. “It’s getting late, and I have to get going.”
Spirits deflated, she watched as he stood.
After grabbing his keys off the counter, he made his way to the door, opening it.
She stood and approached him. “Patrick?”
He paused at the threshold, turning toward her. She held her breath for the thousandth time that evening.
“Thank you for a lovely evening.”
He lifted his hand to stroke the side of her face before murmuring, “You’re welcome, sweet Emma.”
Speechless, she stood there like a damned fool. Then he withdrew just as quickly and walked out. With his back to her, he disappeared down the hall, and she shut the door.
She sagged against the frame and closed her eyes.
~ ~ ~
Two weeks. Patrick had purposely kept a mental note. That was how much time had passed since that sinful escapade on Emma’s couch. She’d kept her distance ever since, and he’d grown more and more frustrated, mostly with himself.
He must have been a damned fool to bring up Santorini and their college trip abroad, where they’d shared countless passions every chance they could. Then his mind swirled back to that question, the one about why he’d given her the cold shoulder after the trip. He couldn’t divulge that, at least not yet, because he wasn’t ready to admit it to himself. That his feelings for her ran deeper than he could’ve imagined and that the years of separation had not changed how he felt about her. That fear alone made him keep his distance.
She hadn’t verbalized anything, but he knew she tried to draw the professional line between them. Damn it all to hell if he wished to go further, but since that night in her apartment, she’d kept him at arm’s length, only conversing about business, the project they’d been put on, and avoiding working alone in her office. Instead, she’d always chosen to work in the conference room with the blinds, and the door, wide open.
Lying in bed, Patrick let out a frustrated breath. He’d stared at the wall for hours that night as sleep evaded him. His mind’s eye drew up the delightful image of Emma, from the sexy shorts, showcasing gorgeous shapely legs, to that spoonful of food in her mouth. Everything about her that night had set his body on edge.
She’d been innocently sexy, not even realizing what she did to him.
And that erotic encounter on the couch did nothing to quell his raging libido either. He recalled their bodies presse
d together as he’d crawled over her and her hands exploring his chest, his shoulders, and eventually making their way around his neck before she’d stopped.
When in reality, he’d wanted more, and knew without a doubt she did as well. Emma had looked wholesome, her fair skin free of makeup, her legs bare, her body encased in a billowy sweatshirt. Her honey-blonde hair swept up in a haphazard ponytail and those cute freckles sprinkled all along the bridge of her nose, rosy cheeks, and lush mouth, parted, waiting for a kiss.
Her innocent beauty had sucked him in, taking his common sense away.
At the last moment before he decided to kiss her, he could see the internal battle she struggled with written all over her face. Realizing she had not been thoroughly kissed in a long time, he knew he had to be the one to rectify the situation. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to stop at one kiss.
Because with Emma, he felt the passion all but eat him alive. When he kissed Emma, he knew he could easily pick up right where they left off.
Chapter 5
Emma hoped for another uneventful day as she dressed that morning.
She picked out her dark-plum pencil skirt and a short-sleeved, black button-down top. She dressed with great care, blow-drying her hair until it fell in loose, pretty waves around her face and applied her makeup lightly, until her skin glowed. As she checked her appearance in the mirror, she tried to convince herself that the attention to detail with her appearance had nothing to do with Patrick.
She’d only recently brought the skirt, buried and forgotten in the depths of her closet, out of hiding.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled out a pair of nude pumps from underneath, then gave one last double check in the mirror and was good to go.
An hour later, she and Sarah arrived at work, and with determination, Emma focused on her goal: getting to her office. But from the moment she walked in, she could feel Patrick’s eyes following her. She briefly glanced toward him and his eyes darkened with hunger as they roved over her figure before moving away.
Sarah leaned toward her, whispering, “Well, well, well. Just look at the way he’s looking at you, Emma.”
“Shush,” she furiously whispered back, making her way to grab a cup of coffee and hightailing it to her office.
She shut the door partway, then set her briefcase and drink down before booting up her computer. She spent the first fifteen minutes catching up on emails and various correspondences, praying he wouldn’t show up. That he’d wait until she made her way to the conference room where they would work for most of the day.
Finishing her task, she squared her shoulders and made her way to their usual spot. She’d been keeping her distance from him as much as she could. So far, it’d been going all right, but too many times to count. She’d been tempted to steal a kiss, and from the look in his eyes, the feeling was mutual.
She took a seat and patiently waited for him. Pasting a congenial smile on her face, she cast her papers aside when she looked up to see him walk into the room. When he shut the door all the way behind him this time, she tried to fight the urge to flee.
“Good morning, Patrick.”
He inclined his head. “Emma.”
Attempting to keep her emotions in check, she turned her attention to the various notes sprawled on the table. But the air in the room grew stifling, wrapping around her like a boa constrictor grasping her within its strong grip. She rose and went to open the door all the way, when he stopped her, drawing his arms around her. He pressed her to him, and all the air whooshed from her body.
She gulped. “Patrick, why are you doing this?”
“Punishing myself, but I also can’t help myself, Emma.”
Emma held her breath as he placed his rugged hands on her hips, bringing her bottom up against his front. Methodically, he rubbed the material of her skirt, burning heat right straight through to her skin. She closed her eyes and leaned back, resting on his chest, allowing him to touch, and tease. He took his time, every seductive touch stoking the flames of her slow burning desire. Her mind conjured up images of those nights in Greece.
Damn it. For as long as she lived, she’d never be able to get that night out of her mind.
She continued to keep her eyes closed as he wrapped one arm around her waist while the other pushed aside her hair as he scattered kisses along her neck, setting her flesh on fire from his warm lips. Helplessly, she arched her neck to allow further access, knowing she was crazy but not caring.
His other hand then moved upward, toward her chest. She didn’t try to stop him, and she held a breath, yearning for his hands on her. Several sharp knocks at the door snapped her back to her senses.
Opening her eyes, she pushed Patrick’s arms away and moved aside. He cleared his throat and casually put his hands in his pockets. All just in time to see Sarah enter, a knowing smile on her face, one eyebrow rose in curious appraisal, as if she knew exactly what they’d been doing. “Hey, lady, I figured you might need a coffee break.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” she said much too quickly. “I’ll see you in ten minutes, Patrick. We’ll finish where we left off.” As the awkward words fell from her tongue, he tossed her a devilish wink.
He winked. “Count on it.”
Linking arms with her friend, she accompanied Sarah to a thankfully empty break room. Emma shut the door behind her, sagging against it for a few moments. She closed her eyes, trying to regain her equilibrium, and hoped her appearance didn’t look too disheveled from Patrick’s traveling fingers.
“What’s going on, my friend?” Humor laced Sarah’s lilting voice.
Emma opened her eyes to see an even more amused expression on her face. “Thank God you interrupted when you did.”
Pouring two cups of coffee, Sarah handed her one. “Why is that?”
“Jesus, Sarah, I don’t know how I’m going to do this,” she said in hushed tones, taking a sip.
Sarah set her coffee down, crossing her arms over her chest. A smile lit her face, but she just wordlessly stared at her, seemingly amused at her predicament as though she wasn’t going to ask any questions, because she already knew all the answers.
Emma huffed. “He walked in, shut the door, and the blinds! Goodness, what will people say?”
Her friend raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, I noticed that, and I was going to rescue you, but I figured I’d give you two some time alone.”
“We don’t need time alone, I assure you.”
“Oh, I think you do, Emma. It’s been too long. You need to go out on a date, to have some fun.”
Emma hung her head then looked back toward her friend, but Sarah spoke again before she could respond. “Both you and I know how much that week meant to you. How you’ve been loving him from afar for a long time.”
Yes, that had been one pure fantasy week. But this was reality.
“Yes, but that was a long time ago. We’re grown adults now, and I’ve been through enough the last few years. I don’t need a man to complicate things.”
Sarah shook her head. “Luke is in the past, Emma. You have every right to go on a date, or have a relationship.”
Tears welled up in Emma’s eyes at her ex-boyfriend’s name. Oh, what hell she’d been through with that man. She’d thought he was the man of her dreams. Successful, handsome, a real go-getter, and he’d swept her off her feet six months after she’d graduated college. He’d been everything she thought she ever wanted. Love came quickly, and her feet had barely touched the ground during their relationship.
Although in the back of her mind, she’d wondered about Patrick, wondering why they hadn’t resumed their “relationship” after their trip to Greece. It’d died as quickly as it started, and his rejection hurt her more deeply than she realized was possible. She knew it must’ve been purely physical for him, but it
had meant so much more to her. Although she’d never been brave enough to voice it, burying those feelings way down deep.
And then Luke happened. After a year, she’d moved in with him and that was when everything changed. He began evading her, hiding things, not answering her questions when he would be out late at night, even on working nights. Suspicion rooted itself in her brain, and she eventually hired a private investigator.
Only to have her world shattered, finding out he’d not only been a heavy gambler, but also had two different women on the side. Paying their rent, bills, buying them clothes, flashy cars, whatever they wanted. She’d even learned one of them became pregnant.
Proof in hand, she confronted him, and he hadn’t denied it. He’d told her he was no longer attracted to her due to weight gain, and poof. It was over. Her already-frail self-esteem shattered. With nothing more than her clothes and not much in the bank, she left California and moved back to Wisconsin. Sarah had been more than happy to have her back, and they’d been roommates ever since. Thankful for the support, Emma had slowly begun to rebuild her life again.
A waving hand in front of her face brought out of painful memories. She stared at Sarah, trying to bring her into focus.
“Emma? Are you okay?”
She rubbed her arms, littered with goose bumps. “I was foolish once, Sarah. I don’t wish to repeat myself.”
“I know that was a rough part of your life, Emma, but things are better now. It’s okay to move on.”
Emma nodded. If she didn’t break the shackles of the past now, she never would. Maybe Patrick re-entered her life for a reason. Maybe she needed to get back on the horse. “Thanks, Sarah. You always know what to say to make me feel better.”