Page 66 of Inarticulate

“Don’t.” She looked away, denying his kiss and any chance for him to communicate. He didn’t deserve anything from her, no matter how willing her body was to raise the white flag.

His fingers encased her chin, the familiar grip stealing a silent whimper from her throat. He guided her face back to meet his and she stood riveted, unable to break the connection. “I need you.”

She wished she could scoff, or laugh, or glare. She didn’t want to understand him anymore, didn’t want to acknowledge the words that had become so easy to interpret. “I’ll never trust you again. Everything will be a lie.”

He shook his head. “No.”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. His fingers worked in proficient taps and strokes until he held up an old message for her to read—Nobody has ever affected me the way you do. Nobody. Ever. I leave you and within seconds I have to push myself not to turn back and go in search of you again. It might be a normal feeling for others, but for me it’s a first. And although I don’t have the experience to back it up, I think this uncomfortable, clingy sensation might be something normal people consider a good thing.

“Not a lie,” he mouthed.

He tapped over and over and then showed her the screen again. This time it was a new message—I didn’t know you were with Rydel until after you left the bonfire. And by then, it was too late. I wasn’t going to stand you up at the restaurant. Even if I hadn’t given you that note, I was already in too deep.

Her cheeks heated with gullibility. It had to be a lie. He was playing her. Again. But he played her so well. He played her with such sweet proficiency that she anticipated another betrayal and still wanted to go along for the ride anyway.

She lowered her gaze to the floor between them and wished she could forget the time they’d spent together. “Can you move back a little?”

She needed room. He was too close. Too tempting. Instead, he stepped closer, bringing them toe to toe. “Keenan…”

His arm wove around her waist, pulling them together. The solid wall of his chest beat against hers, his strength making her weak as he typed one-handed—You knew I worked with Penny.

“Yes. I just didn’t know to what extent,” she admitted.

But you knew Penny worked closely with the CEO.

“Yes.” She became hooked on the support of his body, sated by it, until he stepped back and she mourned the loss.

He flashed her another message—So, like I mentioned earlier, you thought I was worthless. You assumed I lacked the skills to have a position of power. Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you realized what was happening between us had turned into something more than gratification and you decided to ignore the risks. Which is it?

She stared blankly at the screen, refusing to admit to either when she had to acknowledge she was guilty of both.

“I want you to leave,” she murmured. He’d dissolved her anger, which was dangerous because now she only had vulnerability to keep her company.

He lowered his screen. Typed a new message—Do you think I wanted to become infatuated with someone who thinks I’m less of a man because I don’t talk?

“It doesn’t matter.” She placed her hand back on his chest and lost the fight to push him backward. “It’s over. I won’t risk my job any more than I already have.”

His mouth curved, the slightest grin dissolving the potent seriousness in the room with the kick of his lips. “Yes, you will,” he mouthed.

His hand came to her cheek, then wove gently through her hair. The soft clench of her heart made panic unfurl in her belly. She was falling victim all over again. Her weakness for him was pathetic, and way too powerful.

“Leave,” she repeated with conviction.

His eyes narrowed and that perfect grin faltered. He was trying to read her thoughts and she couldn’t allow it. She wasn’t going to let him win. Not twice in one day.

He thumb-tapped into his phone and kept scrutinizing her as she read—Promise me you won’t leave Seattle.

“I owe you nothing.”

He shoved his cell closer to her, demanding she reread his screen—Promise me you won’t leave Seattle.

“I’ll have you removed from the premises if I have to.” She slid out of reach. “Take the lingerie you sent me as you go. It’s in the box beside the television. The tags still attached. You might be able to return them.”

He stepped forward, coming to her side. She stiffened, every muscle taut trying to defend from the enticing onslaught. There was no communication, no Post-Its or messages on his screen. There were no mouthed words or gestures with his body. He merely stood there, looking down at her, owning her with his gaze.

She raised her chin, determined in her stance as he leaned in and placed an excruciating kiss on her forehead. The brush of his soft lips was brutal, destroying her defenses.

The need to pull him toward her was painful.

---