Page 27 of Without You
“Hey,” she replied. She stood.
“You got your hair done. Looks nice.” His gaze trailed over her skinny jeans, and whatever he was thinking made him bite his bottom lip before their eyes met again.
Her cheeks heated. “Thank you. Your trim looks nice, too.”
“How you been?” he asked. He looked so good in loose-fitting jeans and a white V-necked tee that hugged his body and created a sharp contrast against his dark umber skin.
Charisse smoothed clammy hands over her hips. “How do you think I’ve been? You know I hate having my name mentioned on TMZ or shared anywhere online, but what can we do? Your girlfriend has turned our private life into an opportunity for publicity and online clout.”
He ran a wary hand over the back of his head. His tattoo-covered biceps flexed. “I told you before she’s not my girlfriend, and don’t worry—she’ll go away soon. Her fifteen minutes of fame will soon be up.”
She eyed him, dissatisfied with that answer. She wished they could make Kim and all the salacious gossip go away overnight.
“What do you want me to say, Charisse? We worked toward this type of fame at one time, remember? We can’t turn it on and off anytime we want. We both knew publicity was part of the deal. What’s going on in our lives will always be interesting to the general public.”
“I’m not part of that life anymore. I don’t want to be a part of it. I don’t want to be a part of the media circus that’syourlife. That’s why I live out here, but you’re dragging me back into it.”
“So you regret what happened between us?” He tilted his head, his voice low and warm.
“Of course I do.”
“I thought once you had time to think, you’d see things differently.”
“I don’t.”
“We made love, like we used to, and it was good. You enjoyed it, and I enjoyed it.” His eyes darkened. “I want to put my mouth on you and feel you under me again. It’s so damn hard not to reach for you right now.”
She knew that feeling, because she wanted to reach for him, too. “Stop talking to me like that.”
His eyes focused on her breasts, and she wondered if he could see how hard her nipples were through her blouse. She was too afraid to look and hoped the hunger she experienced the minute she saw his face on the monitor hadn’t manifested in that way.
“How are things with Dud—I mean, Austin?”
“Over.” After a particularly awkward conversation, Austin walked away and left Charisse to wallow in the aftertaste of guilt as a result of betraying someone who’d been nothing but good to her.
“Can’t say that I’m sorry.” His expression was totally unrepentant.
Charisse took a deep breath and placed her hands on her hips. “Why did you come here?”
“I was worried about you.”
“You could have inquired about my well-being over the phone. As you can see, I’m fine.”
“Yes, you are.” His gaze trailed over her again, and this time his nostrils flared.
He’d used one of the oldest lines in the book, and still she blushed, as if he’d recited original poetry.
Terrence came closer, and her core spasmed in a silent cry for him. He stopped within arm’s length of her. “I’m not fine, though. I miss you. I need you. Right this minute.”
She reached back and gripped the counter. Would one more time really hurt?
He eased closer, deep into her personal space. He brushed his lips to her cheek. With his mouth hovering over hers, he whispered, “You know you own me. Heart, body, and soul.”
She lowered her gaze. The feeling was mutual. He owned her, inside and out, but she dared not admit it. She couldn’t give him that kind of power again. His hands moved slowly to the front of her jeans, giving her ample time to stop him.
She didn’t.
He unsnapped the button and lowered the zipper.
