Page 17 of Ardent Desires

I grip the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I shouldn’t have touched her. But I did. And now the taste of her is all I want.

I drive to my penthouse, the streets almost empty at this hour. My mind is a mess—thoughts of Ellie tangled with the regret of crossing a line I can’t uncross. By the time I park in the underground garage, my body is still humming with pent-up desire, and it’s like my skin is too tight. I feel restless, heated.

The second I get inside, I kick off my shoes and head straight to my bedroom. The rain pounds against the floor-to-ceilingwindows, but all I can hear is the sound of my own shallow breathing.

I unbutton my shirt, but it’s not enough. I’m hard, throbbing,achingin a way that feels fucking unbearable. Without thinking, I unzip my pants, pull out my cock, and wrap my hand around it.

It’s pathetic how quickly I start jerking off, like some desperate teenager who can’t control himself. But all I can picture is Ellie—her lips, her skin, the way she kissed me back with so much need it was like she’d been waiting for it just as much as I had.

My fist moves faster, and the image of her in the rain, wet and flushed, burns in my mind. Her red lips, her breathy little gasps, the way her body felt pressed up against mine.

Fuck, Ellie.

I groan, stroking harder, faster, and when I come, it’s like every nerve in my body explodes. But it’s not enough. Not even close. I’m still fuckingneedy. I stand there, panting, my chest heaving, my cock still half-hard in my hand.

I need to cool off. A shower. That’ll help.

I head to the bathroom, stripping off the rest of my clothes as I go. The bathroom is a sanctuary of sleek marble and glass, the kind of luxurious space that usually calms me down. But tonight, nothing’s working. I turn on the shower, stepping into the cascading hot water, letting it pour over me.

The heat should relax me, should ease the tension in my body, but instead, it makes me think of Ellie again—her warmth, her body pressed against mine. I lean my forehead against the cool tile, cursing under my breath.

Get it together, Blackwood.

After what feels like forever, I finally step out of the shower, towel off, and collapse into bed. But the second my head hits the pillow, I’m thinking about her again. Her eyes, her mouth, the way she looked up at me just before I kissed her.

I grab my phone and dial Lena’s number before I can talk myself out of it.

She answers on the second ring. “Mr. Blackwood?”

“I need the latest iPhone on my desk tomorrow morning.”

There’s a pause. “Understood.”

“And Lena,” I add, thinking about Ellie’s red lips, “make sure it’s in red.”

Lena hesitates, but then I hear her scribbling something down. “Yes, sir.”

I hang up, tossing the phone aside. The bed feels too big, too empty, and my mind is still spinning. I force myself to close my eyes, trying to shut out the image of Ellie’s face, but sleep doesn’t come easy.

*

The next morning, I’m at the office earlier than usual, sitting behind my desk, checking emails and trying to act like everything is normal. But the truth is, I’m not focused on work. Not even close. My mind keeps drifting back to last night. To the kiss. Toher.

I’m also more nervous than I care to admit. What if she doesn’t come in? What if she quits because of the kiss? I didn’t even think of that last night.Fuck.What the hell was I thinking? She could walk away from this job, from everything we’ve been working on, and I wouldn’t blame her.

My collar feels tight. Too tight.

There’s a knock on the door, and Lena steps in, carrying a small box. “The iPhone you requested, sir,” she says, placing it on my desk.

“Put it on Ellie’s desk. It’s for her,” I say, trying to sound casual. “And when she comes in, ask her to come straight to my office.”

Lena looks confused but doesn’t ask any questions. She just nods and leaves the office, the box tucked under her arm.

I rub my temples, trying to ease the tension that’s been building all morning. I’m playing the waiting game now.

Waiting and hoping Ellie comes in on time, that she walks through the door, and that I can fix whatever the hell is happening between us.

It takes half an hour before there’s a knock on the door. I know it’s her. My whole body stirs before the door even opens. I don’t need to see her to feel her presence—like a fucking magnet, pulling me in whether I want it or not.

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