Page 33 of The Vegas Rerun
Just when I really start to think I can’t take this slow, agonizing pressure, he ups the pace of his fingers on my clit and he presses harder, pulling me closer and closer to orgasm until I break, shuddering against him as a wave of heat rolls through me. I close my eyes and feel the wave of pleasure running from my clit to my pussy and up into my stomach. I feel the heat spread out to my extremities, my whole body tingling as I cry out. My orgasm is intense but it’s a relief and I cling to Joshua until finally, it’s over, and I’m coasting down on a warm feeling. I want more. Even before this orgasm has fully faced, I know I want more. I want to feel him inside of me, stretching me, filling me.
I barely have time to catch my breath before I start to slip my shoes off, but his voice stops me.
"No. Leave them on," he growls.
His tone is rough, commanding, sending another shiver down my spine. I nod, my cheeks warm, and he smirks before turning me gently in his arms.
"Bend over," he murmurs, moving me towards his desk.
I obey his command, my pussy dripping wet at his authority. I brace myself against the desk, my pulse hammering and my pussy aching to be filled. His hands slide over my hips, his fingers tracing along the waistband of my panties, but then he stills. The air shifts, and suddenly, his breath hitches.
"Fucking hell. You kept it,” he blurts out.
The words slice through the haze of heat between us, and my body stiffens, the moment ruined. He’s talking about my tattoo.
I don’t move at first, my skin prickling with sudden awareness, my heart sinking. I kept mine. He didn’t keep his. And now, standing here, naked except for my underwear and my shoes in front of him, I feel exposed in a way that has nothing to do with my lack of clothing.
Embarrassment flares hot in my chest, and before I can stop myself, I straighten up and move past Joshua, sweeping up my blouse from the ground and slipping my arms back through the sleeves. The mood, the momentum, it’s all gone, shattered by that one statement.
Joshua steps back, exhaling slowly.
"Molly …" he starts, but I shake my head, not wanting his platitudes or his pity. He stops for a moment, but before I can think of anything to say to make this easier, his hand finds my wrist, his touch gentle. "Are you ok?"
His voice is different now, his tone softer, and he sounds genuinely concerned. It makes my throat tighten, makes something in me want to run. I was prepared for him to ignore the tattoo if he even noticed it, but I didn’t expect this. And it confirms something – he definitely remembers me from Vegas now, even if he didn’t before.
I force a small, tense smile.
"Yes, thank you. I’m fine. We got a little bit carried away there,” I say and then I shake my head. I don’t know what else to say, but he’s still looking at me like he wants more. "I should … "
I don’t know how to finish the sentence and so I don’t, I just stop talking.
Joshua studies me for a moment, his thumb brushing lightly against my skin, and I can see the shift in him. The tension in his jaw, the flicker of something almost like regret in his eyes. But he doesn’t push me to say more. He just nods his head, letting his hand drop away.
I take a slow, steadying breath, trying to gather myself. Trying to ignore the ache deep in my chest. I’m aware that he can’t win with me. When I thought that he was going to push me to talk about that night, I clammed up, and when he accepted that, I was kind of pissed off that he didn’t try harder to get me to talk.
I’m all over the place and I know it. But this was never supposed to happen. The past was supposed to stay in the past. But right now, with Joshua standing so close to me, the taste of his kiss still lingering on my lips, it feels anything but forgotten.
CHAPTER 23
JOSHUA
“Fucking hell. You kept it,”I say, the words out of my mouth before I can even think about the consequences of saying them out loud. I didn’t even mean to speak, I was just so shocked that the words came out without me okaying it.
The words hang in the air, air that is now thick with something I hadn’t meant to bring into this moment. Molly’s reaction to them is instant. Her body stiffens, and then she straightens up and pushes past me. She gets her shirt off the floor and puts it on. The warmth between us, the sexual tension that had been building, evaporates in an instant, replaced by something cold and filled with misery.
Fuck.
I didn’t mean to ruin the moment like that obviously. I didn’t mean to say it like that, but the surprise had burst out of me before I could stop it. I had assumed—wrongly, it seems—that what we had between us in Vegas was long forgotten, just a night of passion between two strangers, that she had brushed that night aside the same way I constantly try to convince myself that I have. The whole time she has been working here, she hasshown no signs of recognition. Not a single glance that hinted at a memory, not a single moment that betrayed familiarity. That was why I was so shocked to see the tattoo. How could she not know me if she remembered the night fondly enough to keep the ink?
I can’t attempt to fathom all of this out now. For now, all I have to do is make things right with Molly. The last thing I wanted to do tonight is upset her.
“Molly,” I say. She shakes her head like she doesn’t want to hear what I have to say, but I need to know she’s ok. I step towards her and reach out and catch her wrist so she can’t run from me. “Are you ok?”
She smiles but it’s clearly forced. It doesn’t make her eyes sparkle like her real smile does.
"Yes, thank you. I’m fine. We got a little bit carried away there,” she says, and then she shakes her head. "I should … "
I don’t know how she was going to finish her sentence because she just stops talking mid-sentence. I want to know, but it’s obvious she’s uncomfortable and I don’t want to push her. I’ve already ruined tonight; I don’t have to make it worse. Not knowing what else to do, I release Molly’s wrist. If she wants to go and sit in a different room, then I will be gutted, but I won’t try to stop her.
