Page 84 of Obsession

“Why are you here?”

A muscle in his jaw jumped and his eyes hardened. “I thought this was where you resided.”

My stomach dropped. Oh, God. I’d forgotten I’d used the gallery’s address on my application.

What exactly could I say? There was only one way to play this.

Ignore him.

I moved around him, and he grabbed my arm and dragged me in close. His voice was low in my ear. “More lies?”

Nothing about Blake allowed me to forget, or to ignore. Not when I was in his airspace. God, would it always be like this?

No.

No, actually it wouldn’t. I met his dark stare. “I’m full of them, remember?”

Instead of recoiling, he dragged me closer until I was on my toes, my chest crashing into his arm. We were alone here. The gallery itself was bustling with people, but this room was empty. All but done save for one piece.

“Why?” he asked.

His eyes glittered with anger and something else I couldn’t name. Something I was too afraid to name.

“Why does it matter? You fired me. We’re done, remember?”

“It matters, dammit.”

“Why?”

His jaw was clenched so hard, I was getting a sympathy headache from it. His hold on me was equally intense. Not enough to bruise, but it would take a good, hard shove to get him to let go.

Why wasn’t I pushing him away?

My nipples tightened under my dress. He couldn’t know, but it was bad enough I did. Shame and heartache climbed up my throat. I hated it—hatedhim—for how much I wanted him.

We were nothing but smoke trapped under glass. We suffocated each other, wrapped around each other, and then dissipated the moment we were set free. Not even an ember left when we were done with each other.

He dropped the bag he was carrying, and his fingers tunneled through my hair. The iPad I was carrying clattered onto the empty pedestal.

He lowered and I went on my toes until our mouths collided.

Bright white heat flashed behind my eyes as he devoured me. Teeth, tongues, and lips—we were wild for each other. He lifted me off my feet and carried me until I hit the window. His hand pressed to the glass above my head as he loomed over me.

He didn’t hesitate. There was no question, no room for doubt. He dragged my dress up, his short nails scoring my outer thigh until his knee bumped my inner thigh.

I rode the lightning we created together until voices dented my consciousness. Too close. Too much.

What the hell were we doing?

Another heated fuck that led to nowhere?

He pressed his forehead to mine, his chest heaving. “I hate this. I hate wanting you like this. I hate knowing you’re using me.”

I tightened my fingers on his shoulder blades under his jacket. I didn’t even remember curling around him. “And you’re not usingme?”

His eyes were fierce and so very angry. He gripped my hair at the nape of my neck and dragged my head back. His voice was a mere growl of breath. “I want to use you until we both can’t breathe again. I want to fuck you so hard that I forget who and what we are.”

My vision blurred and a single tear escaped to roll down my temple into my hair. “I’m not what you think I am,” I whispered.

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