Page 50 of Desperate Measures

Like our wedding.

I supposed I deserved that. In fact, I knew I did. But I hated that she thought it even if only for a second.

I wanted to fuck Michaela raw because I couldn’t be near her and not want to fuck her. Hell, that was why I’d stayed away all week.

No more, though. Now that I had her twice, there was no staying away.

Still, I had to do something, anything, to save myself from being lost in those damn eyes.

If I didn’t, if I let myself fall any deeper into the weight of her gaze, I was going to lose control.

I was going to become one of those men who would do anything at the snap of some woman’s fingers. Someone who would follow her around like a shadow, blindly doing her bidding, no questions asked.

I wasn’t sure I was ready to give up that much of myself, that much power over my own life.

But still, the more I looked at her, the more that sense of impending surrender crept in, threatening to swallow me whole.

Would that be so bad?

I had to stop.

I had to regain some semblance of control before I ended up at my wife’s beck and call.

I could feel the tug of her power over me. A not so subtle command, and it was starting to feel like a trap, slowly tightening around me.

But even as that thought crossed my mind, a surprising part of me didn’t fight it.

Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.

The idea hung there, floating in my mind, both terrifying and exhilarating.

Maybe it was exactly what I needed.

She was so willing to admit her feelings and shortcomings, so damn honest, she left me reeling.

I almost wanted to give in. To let myself be swept up in whatever storm she was offering.

When I was with her, it was like nothing else mattered.

She wasn’t even asking for my attention, but that just made me eager to give it. Questions filled my head.

What would it be like to really let go, to stop fighting the pull between us?

Would it destroy me, or would it set me free?

The lines were blurring, and the more I struggled to hold on to some sense of distance, the more I realized it was slipping through my fingers.

The worst part? I didn’t want it back.

So, I kept staring into her eyes, feeling the pressure of that depth, letting myself fall just a little bit further.

But falling for her wasn’t an option unless she was there with me.

I knew then what I needed.

Her trust.

Her willingness.

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