He still doesn’t touch me and I’m thankful for it. Because I’m not sure I’m strong enough to push him away again. I can tell he’s fighting himself, see the tension in his shoulders, his fist clenched tight as he stands there trying to play it calm and cool, but I can read him better now. See how he holds himself back with me, for me. I’ve missed him so much. Not talking to him the past few days has hollowed me out. A piece of me missing.
“Oz.” I say his name, but I have no idea what I want to say after. Take me? Leave me alone? Push past all this bullshit and make me understand?
“Have dinner with me. I’ll explain everything to you.”
I look up and see the pain in his eyes. Hating seeing it there because no matter what I might have told myself, I care about this man and it hurts to see him hurt. How can a man who hardly knows me love me like this? He’s fighting himself for me. This is insane, and I want to shout that it’s also completely impossible and he should snap out of it. But then my heart chimes in, and I can’t. I know what he’s feeling isn’t one-sided, and I don’t know what to do with all of these emotions.
“Just dinner, Mallory. Please.”
Releasing a breath, I nod. If I want answers, I need to hear him out. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want him, and that feeling isn’t going away. He gave me the space I asked for, in his own way, and nothing has changed. I want the truth, and in order to get that we need to talk.
“All right, dinner. Saturday night. You can pick me up at my apartment at six.”
He looks like he wants to say more. I know he probably wants to push for tonight, but I need to have the upper hand while I can. If I give in to him, I’ll never have a say over anything again, so I need to make damn sure that when I do it, I’m ready for that again.
His fists clench even tighter at his sides and his jaw twitches, but he nods. “Okay. Tomorrow night at six.”
“Thank you,” I say, tension leaving my body. It’s as if now that the plan has been set and he didn’t fight me on it, I can relax.
His hands unclench, and he acts as if he’s going to reach for me, but then lets them drop. The air is charged between us, and anything could set us off. It’s like a gas leak waiting on a match to strike before the whole thing explodes.
So instead of giving in to the flame, I take a step back and then another, until my ass hits the large door behind me. I turn to pull it open forgetting about it being locked and feel Oz’s body press against mine, his smell filling my lungs, wrapping around me like I’ve been thinking about for days. I didn’t even know you could miss a smell.
He places a kiss on my neck softly and I tilt my head, giving in to what we both want. Before I can even take another breath he’s turning me, my back hitting the door once again.
“I’ll give you until Saturday but you’ll give me something to hold me over.” His mouth takes mine before I can even ask what he wants. Taking what he wants. Demanding my lips to open to his and they do. I’m starting to think he owns my body more than I actually do.
I moan into his mouth and he eats my passion like he can’t get enough of it. Before finally pulling away, leaving us both breathless. I’m almost in a daze from everything I felt from one kiss.
“Go now, or I’ll never let you leave this room.”
Oz reaches into his pocket, and I hear the clicks of the locks disengaging. He’s letting me leave, and for some reason, it makes my heart ache.
“Tomorrow,” he says, and for a second it sounds like a threat. But even as I think it, my excitement grows.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mallory
When I get back to my desk, I see a medium-sized plain white envelope sitting on it, and I immediately think it’s from Oz.
“Paige gave that to me to give to you,” Skyler says, looking down at the package with clear interest. “Okay, so maybe she jumped me in the bathroom and forced it on me.”
I laugh, picturing Paige waiting in the bathroom for the perfect moment. I pick up the package and rip it open. A cheap-looking phone slides out. One text message is visible on the screen.
Red Bull Whore: Operation Ruby Slippers is a go, Dorothy.
I can’t help but laugh.
“She got you a phone?” Skyler eyes me because it’s clear it’s one of those cheap phones you get inside a gas station or something.