Page 22 of One Secret

And to do that, I need Cyrus off this train of inquiry and jumping onto the bandwagon of me following him to Greece.

'Let's just say the welcome parade awaiting me back home isn't going to be a friendly one,' I finally admit. 'Enough so that I need to go with you on this trip. I need to make sure your "not friends" aren't about to send me back to face the music.'

Cyrus raises an eyebrow.

'The music that bad?'

'Horrendously off-key,' I promise.

There's a long pause but when Cyrus finally exhales I know I've won. His jaw is tight. His upper lip twitches. He can't look me in the eye.

Surrender doesn't suit him.

'Hey…' I murmur in the darkness. I take his shoulders and shake him a little. When he finally meets my eyes again, I smile. 'Welcome back.'

His eyes blaze.

Our relationship might not be the most traditional or have the most emotional depth. But those words are just a little bit sacred. I say them every time he returns to Rome.

"I'm here…"

"Welcome back…"

Like releasing a plug from a sink, the phrase drains away those rising tides of defensive hostility. The sensation of my palms on Cyrus's jacket is suddenly more real. The space between us is shrinking. Heated arousal rushes in to replace isolating tension.

On instinct, I shift back onto the table and hook my heels behind his legs.

I can see his nostrils flare in the shadows. His eyes flash hot.

'What are you doing?' he purrs darkly.

'What does it look like I'm doing?' I whisper.

I fist the leather he's wearing and draw him closer. I part my thighs in welcome. He doesn't resist.

'So much for those workplace rules you were so concerned about,' he says as I wrap my legs around his hips. I can hear the grin in his voice and feel an answering smile spreading across my face.

A smile of heated anticipation.

'More pressing issues have my attention right now.'

Using his jacket as a hold, I lift myself up to taste the thick cord of his neck. I feel his moan vibrating against my tongue.

I smile wide when Cyrus grabs hold of my ass, possessive and greedy. Magazines and media like to tell me I'm lacking in the backside department. But my lack of junk in that particular trunk has never been a problem for Cyrus. In fact, he seems to like the lighter load.

I'm just as possessive in my touch. Running my fingers over his short hair, I take the back of his head and claim his mouth with mine. Hot. Hard. And hungry.

No teasing foreplay, no gentle lips. Just open and demanding.

His reaction is instantaneous. A sharp inhale, a delicious groan and then his hands pulling me hard up against his front. The heavy mass behind his zipper steals the air from my lungs. The press of that hard ridge against the apex of my thighs shoots fire beneath my skin.

I gasp. I curse.

Cyrus laughs in the darkness.

From then on, we can't seem to get close enough.

Our kiss deepens and I taste his tongue. I hold him in my mouth, desperate for the feel of his body inside mine. My face flushes, my skin seems to shrink wrap tight.

---