“Every moment since the first time I saw you. And that’s not me lying to keep you here, that’s me telling you the truth. That’s me confessing. Frankly, I know this isn’t going to get me anywhere with you so you have to believe that it’s honest. Because I know that it doesn’t mean anything to you that the moment I saw you, I forgot Ajax’s name, and every thought I ever had about revenge. Because all I could think about was getting you naked then and there. Not romantic, maybe. But all I know is that it didn’t matter then who you were. I mean...not in the sense of who you were to Ajax, or the media, or what your marriage had to do with him acquiring Holt. It only mattered...who you were. Which I know sounds stupid, but in my head it made sense.”
Rachel’s heart was pounding hard, echoing in her head. She leaned forward, grabbed his collar and tugged him to her, kissing him on the mouth. She didn’t know what she was doing or why. Only that she couldn’t stop.
And along with her heartbeat, his words reverberated through her. It only mattered who you were.
He cupped the back of her head and pulled her in harder, taking the kiss deeper, his tongue sliding against hers, sending a wave of lust down through her body. Nothing was settled. And she shouldn’t be kissing him. Shouldn’t be making things confusing by throwing a match on their simmering physical chemistry.
But he’d said he wanted her. And everything in her responded to that. It fought to break free, to push past the boundaries she’d placed around herself, a neat little fence that kept her safe and hidden.
Because he wanted that part of her. He didn’t want her to hide it. Didn’t want her to keep it behind a locked door. Didn’t want her to keep her passion from him. And she wanted to give him that. Wanted to give it to herself, this moment of freedom. Another chance to grab it. To try and feel something.
She’d spent so long not feeling. This was like coming to the surface of the water and breathing in air, filling her aching lungs when she hadn’t even realized what she’d been missing.
She hadn’t realized how much pain had been caused by holding herself under. Because it had been a slow-growing pain, easier to deal with than the idea of having herself exposed to the media, of being used by a man she’d thought she loved.
Still, it hurt. And she was only now seeing just how much.
“I have garlic breath,” she said when they parted, breathing hard and hoping it wasn’t too offensive.
“I probably do, too.”
“Well, I didn’t notice so I guess we’re good.”
“Stop talking, Rachel.”
She nodded. “It would be for the best.”
She moved away from him and away from the table so it wasn’t between them anymore. He rounded it, pulled her to him and kissed her like he was starving. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clung to him.
He tightened his hold on her, propelling her backward until she was pressed up against the rough stone wall of the hotel. “I need you,” he said, kissing her cheek, her neck, her collarbone. “Rachel. Theos, how have I survived this long without touching you?”
She wanted to cry, and she wanted to come, and she couldn’t figure out, in the end, which need would win out. It all felt too big for her, too much. Too much for a girl who was used to hiding in her shell, to feel stripped and exposed like this.
But she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t.