“This is exactly what we need,” she gasped, her breath ragged against his lips. “More. Please.” She spread her legs wider, a not-so-subtle hint of what she was begging for, but a cold sliver of ice sliced through the fog in his mind and forced him to pull away.
Farrah whimpered in protest.
“What do you mean, this is exactly what we need?” A voice in Blake’s brain whispered he didn’t want to know the answer, but it was too late. The question was already out there.
She blinked up at him. “This. Us. Sex.” Her clinical, matter-of-fact response—so at odds with the heat in her eyes—sent another spike of ice through his chest.
Blake felt pathetic, getting so hung up over semantics. If he were smart, the way his cock screamed at him to be, he’d resume what they were doing and deliver so many orgasms neither of them would be able to walk straight.
Any inclination to do just that died with the next words out of Farrah’s mouth. “One night to get each other out of our systems. It’s what we need.”
The ice melted and simmered, transforming into lava at the pit of his stomach. Blake shoved himself off her and stumbled off the bed.
Get each other out of our systems.
Like they were a disease. A drug. An addiction that needed to be purged.
“No.”
Farrah’s jaw hung open. She scrambled to sit up, her cheeks rosy for a whole other reason than desire. “No?” Disbelief sharpened her echo. “Why not? I want you. You want me. Isn’t this what you’ve been working toward since you hired me?”
The lava boiled with fury. “You think I hired you because I want sex.” It wasn’t a question. “Let me be crystal clear: I’ve never paid for sex and I never will, directly or indirectly. Don’t think I need to concoct a plan as elaborate or expensive as hiring you—at three times your rate—to get what, as you so astutely pointed out, we both want.”
Farrah hugged the covers to her chest. Uncertainty and defiance slid across her features. “Then what are we doing here, Blake? I know you. It’s been years, but I know you, and there’s more going on than you needing a designer. You could’ve hired anyone else in the city for less than what you’re paying me. If you don’t want sex, what the hell do you want?”
From the moment they’d laid eyes on each other at The Aviary, they’d been playing games. Cat and mouse. Push and pull. Truth or dare.
Blake was sick of playing games.
So he chose Truth.
“I want you.”
“That’s what I’m offering.”
“Not your body.” Blake closed the gap between them once more. The rug muffled the sounds of his footsteps, and he could hear Farrah breathe, fast and shallow. “I want you. All of you. Heart, body, mind, and soul. I want what we had.” His voice thickened. “I messed things up between us in Shanghai, and I’m so fucking sorry. I was young and stupid, and if I could do it all over, I would. But I can’t. All I can do is stand in front of you and ask for another chance. I know I broke your heart, but if you let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life putting it back together.”
There it was. All his cards laid out on the table for her to see.
Blake hadn’t had the guts to say those words out loud before, but they’d been there, waiting to spill forth at the first command, for five years.
Now, they hovered in the air, waiting for a verdict.
Farrah was the judge, jury, and executioner, and as Blake spoke, her breathing picked up until her chest heaved with each intake of oxygen. Her face was smooth and still as a pane of glass, but a hurricane brewed in her eyes. Emotions flickered through them at such a rapid pace Blake couldn’t pin them down.
The seconds stretched into eternity, prolonging his torture. Blake couldn’t swallow past the lump in his throat. Every nerve of his body stood on alert while his heart paced in his chest, faster and faster until he wanted to throw up from the anticipation.
“I can’t give you that.” Farrah’s rejection sliced through the space between them, turning Blake’s confession into desolate scraps of confetti that fluttered into a heap on the ground. The glimmer of foolish hope in his heart crumbled into ash, filling his airways and choking him. “I can give you one night. That’s it. Take it or leave it.”
Chapter Seventeen
1 month later
The sun beat down on Farrah with fierce intensity, scalding her skin and causing rivulets of perspiration to snake down her face. The heat was merciless, almost angry, as if punishing her for her heartless behavior.
Not heartless, smart, she corrected herself. What she did in Syracuse a month ago was smart, safe, and logical. As the saying goes, fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.
Farrah wasn’t going to let Blake fool her again with his pretty words and promises of forever. She’d made that mistake once, and it almost broke her beyond repair.