Page 123 of Charming Deception

I ache with emptiness.

I dip my face under the water, letting the warmth soothe me. I’m safe now. Safe from my past.

He can’t hurt you anymore.

But I’m feeling it now, and it hurts all over again: a man withholding sex from me.

How long did I have a sexual relationship only with myself because of Troy’s withholding?

* * *

I dry off with a plush towel, feeling wrung out and exhausted. I want to fall into bed and sleep. No restlessness tonight.

Just don’t think about the man lying next to you or wonder if he masturbated in the shower or if he’ll get up in the dead of night to do it again.

Right. Easy.

I realize I’ve left my nightshirt in the walk-in, so I wander in there, wrapped in the towel, the clothes I’ve taken off draped over one arm.

I startle when I find Jameson in the walk-in and drop the clothes.

At least I manage to hang on to the towel.

His back is to me, and I stare as he peels off his charcoal-gray dress shirt. The muscles in his tapered back flex and ripple as he moves, and my mouth goes dry.

The way his dress pants cling to his muscular ass when he bends over to pick up a cuff link he dropped is pornographic.

He told me I could change in the bathroom for privacy, but he made no promise he’d be doing that himself.

I only realize this now.

He must feel his clothes starting to incinerate under my gaze, because he turns. And before I can stutter out any words, his eyes drop—instantly skimming my body.

My skin flushes hot, and my nipples tighten.

He looks right at my pussy as if he can see it through the towel. His hungry expression makes my throat close up.

I could duck back into the bathroom.

But I don’t.

The towel is too small to cover all of me, but at least it covers the private bits. My heart hammers, and I swallow hard.

The air between us is charged with electricity and a dangerous tension. The kind that could drop you into free fall if it snaps.

“I… I’m sorry,” I whisper. I don’t really know why.

I didn’t do anything wrong.

But it’s enough to startle him into tearing his gaze away. It’s like we’re both under some spell. Caught in the snap of electric current. “It’s okay.” His voice is rough and strained as he turns away. “I really should’ve?—”

“I’ll just go get dressed.” I grab my nightshirt and duck back into the bathroom.

Inside, I press my back to the wall, breathing too hard. And it strikes me as my heart pounds: that as much as I want him, I’m afraid of him, too.

I’m deeply afraid of what Jameson Vance could do to my heart.

Chapter 28

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