Page 34 of Broken Pieces
My cock seems to like the sight of her underwear, because it automatically comes to life at the most untimely moment. Our eyes lock, hers showing the temptation; the longing; the wanting. The attraction is undeniable, eating me alive. My body tingles with a growing need and I can slowly feel my physical desires taking over, leaving my rational mind out of the equation. All I want to do is kiss the fuck out of her. Crash our lips to the point of no return. To drown myself in her lips; her curves; her thighs.
“Aria,” I murmur, my hand reaching the back of her neck and closing in the little gap that’s left between us. My gaze drops to her parted lips, and I hover my own over them. The feel of her soft plush pink lips makes me swallow back a groan. I’m holding by the smallest fucking thread right now, holding on for dear life to not do what my body is screaming at me, begging for me to do. “Tell me to stop.”
She breathes a reply, her words colored with need. “Don’t you dare stop.”
My ability to hold the little control I had snaps at the sound of her sweet voice. As our lips are about to fully—finally—meet, the hum from the loading dishwasher snaps me back to the crashing reality, shattering the moment. She startles and pushes me away as she hops off the counter.
“Uhm, well…” she begins, attempting to regain her composure. “I'm exhausted, so I'm going to bed. We have so much to do tomorrow, and we should probably catch some sleep, and—” She pauses and meets my eyes with a flustered look, realizing she's rambling again.
Trying to gain my composure, I ask, “Tomorrow, work lunch to go over the meeting notes?”
She nods quickly without another word, then walks to her room and closes thedoor.
Click.
The lock of her door mocks me for royally fucking up, once again. And just like that, the intense moment of temptation dissipates, leaving me standing alone in the kitchen with the need to go after her. But I know better—that is the last thing I should do. Even if all the bones of my body scream at me to go after her, I won’t.
I can’t.
Iwake up in a tangle of sheets and thoughts, exhausted. I barely slept last night, my mind replaying over and over again another almost kiss between us. The little sleep I did get was filled with inappropriate dreams. The reality of the situation is that I’m here with him for business.Strictlybusiness—that’s it. I remind myself of that as I sit up in bed and push my hair away from my face, letting out a frustrated groan.
I force myself out of bed and head to the bathroom to freshen up and start getting ready for my lunch meeting with Damian. The last thing I want to do is see him, because if memory serves right, the man shuts down every time we have a moment. These games are getting old really fucking fast, and I don’t think I can handle another coldversion of him. Fuck this. And fuck him for shutting down every time too.
Yeah, like you’re any better.
Well, at least I’m not an asshole about it.
As I’m getting dressed and reviewing my notes, I can't shake the restlessness that has settled within me.
I need to get laid.
That’s it. A distraction to keep my mind off Damian and the stupid games we’ve been playing. He’s had more than enough opportunities to make a move, but if there’s one thing I know about him, he’s a calculated man, and whatever this is between us, it’s the opposite of that.
I've been single for a while, and maybe it's time to indulge in a one-night stand. It's not something I've done often, but maybe it's exactly what I need to forget him. With that decision in mind, I reopen the dating app on my phone and begin browsing through potential matches. The profiles flicker across the screen, insecurity taking over.
Is this really the best way to forget about him? Enough to forget this magnetic pull that seems to gravitate us toward each other?
After spending time swiping left and right, I'm able to meet a guy who is also in the city for a work trip. After talking for an hour or two, we set up a dinner date later today.
Perfect. My plan is alreadyworking.
As the clock ticks toward 11:00 AM, I can't escape the looming dread of our lunch meeting. I know I have to face Damian, and my nerves are working overtime. I slip into a sleek turtleneck long-sleeve shirt, paired with high-waisted pants cinched at the waist by a thick, shiny black belt. It’s a bit chilly today, so I opt for an oversized blazer to keep me warm. I complete the ensemble with my usual Louboutin heels, because even though they are terribly uncomfortable, I paid a ridiculous amount of money for them, so I gotta wear them and get my money’s worth.
Arriving at the hotel's restaurant to meet Damian as we had planned, I scan the room, quickly spotting him. He looks striking in his simple, yet well-put-together, outfit. He’s wearing a knitted black tee, and a gold necklace hangs against his chest. His light beige pants hug his perfectly toned legs, and a gold watch adorns his wrist, pairing extremely well with his deep olive skin.
My stupid heart skips a beat at the sight of him. He looks really good—toogood.
Approaching the table, our eyes meet, a flush of embarrassment reaching my cheeks. I've been admiring him for longer than I intended. Still, I'm determined to maintain my composure.
Taking my seat, I offer a simple apology, “Sorry I'm late.”
His response catches me off guard as he snaps, “You're ten minutes late, and I have places to be.”
Theman who was so close to kissing me in the kitchen seems so distant now, and whilst it’s fucking disappointing, I’m not surprised by his attitude at all. This is what he does. He just shuts down completely, and builds his walls right back up. We take one step forward, then two steps back. The dance is getting tiresome and annoying. I honestly thought we were past this. I should’ve known better than that now.
Before I can reply with what is sure to be a witty and sarcastic response, a man approaches us with a confident stride, his presence commanding attention. He extends his hand toward Damian, greeting him with a hearty handshake and a friendly smile. “Hey, didn't know you were coming. I would've set up a meeting if I knew.”
Damian returns the handshake, offering a nod of acknowledgment. “Last-minute work trip, you know how it is.”
