Page 48 of Shadow Dance

His smile fades.

“Do you know how much I think about you?”

“Stop,” he says, his voice a soft rasp.

I’m looking at his beautiful mouth as he says it, so beautiful it renders what he just said meaningless. I let my towel slip as I draw closer, and it falls to the floor in a damp heap.

“Maeve,” Jaime warns, grasping my shoulders as he holds me at bay. His gaze skips over my body before coming to rest on my face. “Stop playing.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a dangerous game.”

“But we’ve been playing it for a long time,” I say, almost salivating with how badly I want to kiss him. How many times have I imagined what it would feel like? “You said there are no cameras here.”

His eyes dart to my mouth, betraying him. Closing the distance between us, I rise to my toes and kiss him. His hands drop to my hips, flexing, as I rest mine on his chest. Our lips part on the same breath and I slip my tongue inside his mouth, tasting apples and almonds and beer. It’s gentle and tentative, and it’s all me. My heart sinks when I realize he’s not reciprocating, and I step back, unsure.

But Jaime follows, walking me back against the door. “Why?” He fists his hand in my dripping hair and tugs my head back, his eyes a violent storm. “Why would you do that?”

Tears spring to my eyes, burning down the sides of my face. He descends with a rough, demanding kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth like a thirsty man drinking from an oasis. He takes and takes, kissing me but not letting me kiss him, doubling down when I whimper, pressing me against the door so hard I can barely breathe.

When I reach up to touch his hair, he grabs my hands and presses them to my sides. “What do you want from me?” he asks, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes.

“What?” I ask, confused, breathless, my heart still pounding.

“What do you want?” he repeats, enunciating each word. He crowds me against the door, his grip on my wrists tightening. There is no warmth in his gaze or his voice. “You trying to fuck?”

Shame, embarrassment, and anger burn through my body like a wildfire, leaving me flushed and shaken. Have I misread this entire situation? I thought there was affection between us. I thought Jaime liked me, but apparently, I’ve deluded myself. Shaking my head, I grasp for words. “I?—”

“This is above my pay grade.” He lets go of me and walks away, not bothering to look back. “Go home, Maeve.”

Snatching my towel from the floor, I throw his door open and leave.

Chapter 13

Jaime

At one a.m. I get a text from Callum, letting me know he won’t be home until tomorrow. I’m guessing he sent Maeve the same text. I don’t know why he bothers. He does this all the time.

Tomorrow’s now today, and there hasn’t been any movement at the main house so he’s probably not back yet. I’m sure Maeve’s up, though. We usually leave for her class in five minutes, and she doesn’t like to miss it. Yesterday was an anomaly. She was tired, hungover. Impulsive.

Morning sunlight glints off the pool’s placid turquoise surface. Last night around dusk it’d looked almost purple, Maeve floating in the middle of it, her eyes closed, her black hair drifting around her face. She’d looked like a dream, peaceful but erotic, and my body stirs at the memory. Her gentle curves, long, toned legs, and perky tits. All that slick skin.

You were watching me swim just now.

I turn away from the window, ignoring the inconvenient flutter of arousal. I need to get it together in the next—I check my watch—two minutes. How am I going to handle the day-to-day with Maeve when all I can think about is the way she came onto me last night? Materializing at my door like my dirty thoughts had summoned her, flushed and dripping wet, the hunger in her eyes blatant and demanding. I shouldn’thave let her get so close, shouldn’t have listened to anything she had to say, not when she looked like that. And I never should’ve kissed her back. Losing control was not—is not—an option.

But I wanted to lose control, so badly. I was barely holding on when she teased me about watching her in the pool, but then she kissed me and my mind went blank. I wanted to rip off that little black bikini, spread her open, and fuck her until she couldn’t walk.

Instead, I told her what she needed to hear. I knew my harsh words had her second-guessing every interaction we’ve ever had, but I had to shut things down. I can’t afford forfeelingsto fuck up everything I’ve worked for, and frankly, neither can she. Giving in tofeelingscould be a death sentence for her. For both of us. Fuck feelings.

It’s what I’ve been telling myself since the moment she grabbed her towel and ran back to her house. I know she cried.

I rub my hands over my face.Get your shit together.

Maeve is in the kitchen, twisting the lid onto her water bottle, when I come in through the French doors. She glances up briefly at my approach, her expression blank. “Hey.”

“Morning.” Her ballet bag is on the floor, so I pick it up. “You ready?”

---