Twins Make Four

My body was betraying me. My nipples were hard, pointed and probably showing through my dress. My core had turned molten and was leaking my heated desire onto my panties. Damn him and his fuck me eyes.

My heart wasn’t doing much better, doing all sorts of flips and hops in my chest.

My brain was valiantly trying to erect my emotional defenses and I promised it that this would be the last time I let myself fall under this man’s spell.

I would allow myself the pleasure of his body one last time. I would risk my heart one last time, then I would put an end to this relationship and move on.

Just this one last time…

Besides I knew he was likely to hate me once he found out the secret I had harbored for all these years. And I knew is it was only a matter of time before he found out.

I got up and followed him, leaving my text book and bag behind.

He led me to one of the private study rooms in the back of the library.

The room was small and could barely hold a handful of people comfortably. The inside was outfitted with a table and three chairs. The walls were distraction-free and painted a plain beige color. It was the perfect place to focus on your studies, or for me to see Wyatt’s naked body again.

I heard the door close and the lock click. I turned back to find Wyatt leaning against the wood and watching me with heavily hooded eyes.

I swallowed hard and moved to undo the buttons of my dress. We were here to have sex. I was going to get to it as quick as possible so that I could go lick my wounds in private later.

I had only undone one button before Wyatt pushed away from the door and came to me. His movement was cool and confident. Predatory.

Sexy.

When he was within kissing distance, he stilled my hands with his and said, “Let me do that.”

I expected this romp between us to be quick and to the point just like last night.

Instead Wyatt took his time, unbuttoning my dress like he was unwrapping his favorite treat.

When all the buttons were free, he pushed the straps off my shoulders. His fingers caressed my skin in the process and made me shiver with yearning.

He was careful with my clothes, putting the dress carefully on the back of a chair even though he never took his eyes off me.

He moved to my hair next.

I had put it up into a high ponytail that morning. He gently pulled the holder away and my hair fell heavily around my shoulders. The strands teased my skin and goose bumps rose along my shoulders and upper arms.

He made a sound in the back of his throat then announced, “You’re so fucking beautiful I can’t stand it. You have no idea what you do to me.”

This was so unfair. He was acting like he cared. Like he felt something other than desire for me. This was giving my poor heart hope when there was none. I had to stop that mess in its track before it got out hand.

I pulled my eyes away from his.

“Hurry,” I told him. “Someone could knock at any second. You know they might want to actually study in here.”

He put his finger on my lip. Even that simple caress seemed so sensual when he did it.

With a gentle touch, he made he look back at him and whispered, “Shhh, don’t worry so much. Just enjoy the moment. I’ll take care of you.”

He finished undressing me with the same unhurried precision, as if we had all the time in the world. This was so different from the rushed race to the finish of last night.

Then he undressed before my eager gaze and I got my first clear view of his body in almost five years.

He was ripped with muscle. Strength was in every line of his body. I could see the evidence of his service to his country though. There were scars on his arms and chest. They were faint yet some looked deep. Also, there was a new tattoo on his pec bearing the symbol for medicine. I was drawn to those marks and my fingers touched him without my conscious permission. I traced them, trying to sooth away any lingering hurt.

He took my fingers away and kissed each one.