A soft sound escaped him, one that had the air clutching in my lungs. I peered up at him, saw the strange gleam in his eyes and knew, from that one glance, he felt it.
This thing between us.
A livewire that bound us together.
It had been there since the beginning. Since that first moment our eyes had collided in my once favorite coffee spot. The place I’d gone every day for months after, hoping he’d be there, waiting on me again. Only, he never had, and I wasn’t that desperate that I’d go and hunt down one of the eligible O’Donnellys—I wasn’t about to make an ass of myself over a fool man who’d ghosted me.
Even as I accepted that he didn’t deserve me after what he’d done, I also accepted that I knew why he had.
Without putting words in his mouth, I’d seen the second he’d had to take a business call at the end of our meal, and how a mask had come down over his features as a result.
Like any joy, any feeling, any sense of pleasure that was to be found in our time together had immediately disappeared.
Washed away like dirt in the rain.
It had hurt to behold. Even now, the memory of it was enough to make me cringe, because that level of control, that ability to shut everything off and become an automaton wasn’t something to envy but to dissect.
After being ghosted though, it made a woman doubt herself. And as confident as I was, I wasn’t that confident. Still, the way he looked at me now was a reminder of what arced between us.
Of the heat and the tangled whip of fire that lashed at us both.
It sounded like an exaggeration, but it wasn’t. It was the wholehearted truth.
My breath stuttered in my chest as I watched him watch me, his gaze dropping down to the knot of my bathrobe.
"If I tugged on that," he rasped, "what would I find underneath it?"
I swallowed. "Me and little else." A bandage didn’t count as a covering, did it?
He growled under his breath, and then his hand dropped to the knot and he pulled on it.
Once.
Then he stopped.
My heart did too.
He kept his fingers there, around the loose tie, and I waited, heart in my throat now, as I wondered if he’d tug on it, carry on until it opened, revealing my bare body as I promised.
The ache in my head and wrists were memories of another time, another place.
They’d gone, whispered away by the non-existent breeze in the gym.
I was pretty sure the clock froze as well as the rest of the world, the universe itself contracting as he stared at me. As I stared at him. Our gazes tangling with the force of the atoms themselves in the Hadron particle collider.
Then, he did as we both wanted, but neither were willing to say.
He tugged.
The knot parted, the tie falling away, and a sliver of my body was revealed to him.
He groaned under his breath as that same hand slipped to my waist, parting the two halves of the robe and showing even more of my form to him. I didn’t do anything, determined that he’d make this first move, seeing as he’d been the one to make the last.
At that moment, my brain was wired to focus on him and only him, which, with the clusterfuck I’d made of my life, was exactly what I needed.
I felt the pressure of his fingertips against my skin as if each one were a burning brand. It was insane how deeply they seared me, as if he’d pressed them against a fire then pushed them into my skin. Crazier still that it felt so good.
He gripped me there, for a second, before he traced my ribs, soaring higher and higher until his hand cupped my breast.
All air stuttered out of my lungs, my lips parted noiselessly as I looked down at where his tan hand connected with my pale flesh.
Biting my lip, determined not to say anything or do anything that would enable or disable him from making a decision, I groaned too when his other hand moved to my hip, dropping down to shape the line where groin met thigh.
He brushed against the gauze bandage, muttering, "When I saw you bleeding, I nearly fucking lost it."
"You bandaged me up?"
His eyes met mine. "You think I’d let another man, even one of my brothers, touch you?"
His words, so possessive and sure, triggered a discordant reaction inside me. I loved that he sounded so insanely covetous. But I wanted to scream at him because he was the one who’d pushed me into other men’s arms by disappearing the way he had.
He had no right to be all jealous now, and yet, tell that to my ovaries. Ovaries that really wanted him to claim what he was stating was his.
"Do you know how long I’ve dreamed about seeing you naked?"
Because I was both pissed off and horny, the truth wasn’t far from hand, so I rasped, "You were the one who walked away."
Which was both the truth and bullshit. In his defense, there hadn’t been that much to walk away from. Not really. We’d met three times. Two of which had been all business, and that evening supper hadn’t exactly been a date, but it had been one meal together.
It just felt like a lot more because the chemistry between us seemed ancient.
Nothing this powerful was nascent. It was forged in that big soup the universe came from. Big talk but that was the power of the connection between us.
I’d spent thirty-four years on this planet and, not once, had I experienced even an eighth of this response to another human being.
His mouth tightened. "My world isn’t something I’d wish on anyone."
"Your world is one I’ve studied for years."
"Then you should be smart enough to recognize that you should have backed the hell away from it."
"I did, didn’t I?" I murmured. "I went to TVGM like a good little girl."
His jaw tensed. "You knew I set that up for you?"
I dipped my chin. "Of course. The leap was too sharp for it to be anything other than nepotism. My father’s name helped, but it wouldn’t have done anything if I hadn’t been wedged into the position."
His mouth firmed. "I’d do it again."
"I know you would," I retorted. "I didn’t say I resented it, did I? I just said that I did as I was told."
"Obedience never did sit well with you."
"Like you know me enough to recognize that," I snapped.
"I know enough. I’ve fucking watched you every goddamn morning, Savannah. Jacked off in the shower after watching you talk about that year’s biggest fucking pumpkin, and tried not to wish you weren’t on morning television so you could wear a short skirt so I could fantasize about tugging it higher and bending you over that desk so that I could fuck you until the only news you were interested in was how many orgasms a woman can have during one screw."
I pressed a hand to his chest and pushed. "You’re the one who walked away," I repeated. "Not a single call, Aidan. Not a single text. I wasn’t going to beg for your attention."
"I almost wished you did but I know that’s not in your nature."
"Damn right it isn’t." I gritted my teeth. "I’m telling you now, Aidan O’Donnelly, if you keep on touching instead of looking, I’m not going to let you walk away next time."
He stiffened up at that, tension invading his limbs. "Savannah—"
"Don’t even think about trying to bullshit me." For as much as I’d thought my head was foggy, at that moment, I’d never thought clearer. "I’m telling you now. If you don’t move your hands away, if you carry on with what you’re doing, I will snap a ball and chain so tightly around your fucking ankle you’ll wonder if it’s going to cut off the circulation to your foot."