Page 56 of The Refusal

“What’s so funny?”

“Let me get this right,” she gasps out. “Janus Phillips—theJanus Phillips—the one who’s built a billion-dollar tech company—searched for ‘redhead’s small breasts’ online? How come you haven’t been arrested?” Her whole body starts shaking with laughter, and warmth slips through me. Maybe I’m managing to diffuse this.

I grin at her. “If you have to ask me this, then you don’t understand how many times I have imagined these breasts.” I inch my hands upward to rest on her dress covering the small mounds, not confident enough to do anything more with her, even thumb her nipples. They harden minutely under my palms, and I lean forward to nip her lower lip.

As her laughter fades away, her eyes roam back and forth between mine. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” she whispers. “You’ve dated some of the most gorgeous women—”

I close my eyes, groaning. I’ve never regretted my dating history as much as I do right now.

“It wasn’t like that. They weren’t proper dates and anyway, it’syou,” I say, wanting her to be over this anxiety, to understand. “I don’t want you because you’re beautiful, although you absolutely are, I want you because you’reyou.” I close my eyes swallowing. “I don’t want anyone else.”

“Including my small breasts?” My eyes pop open to catch her scrunched-up face, clearly trying to lighten the intensity that’s descended like a cloud.Too much, too soon, Janus.

But it feels wrong to hold back now, wrong to make jokes, even if I understand why she’s doing it. I growl and grind my erection into her, closing my eyes.

“I can’t joke about this, I’m …” I push up on my arms. “You have no idea how thrilled and anxious I am about this, do you? I didn’t think for the longest time you’d want this, want me. You seemed so determined to keep me at arm’s length, so turned off with my reputation …”

I need some distance, so I sit back on my heels and run both hands over my face. I want to be honest. She opens her mouth, but I barrel on. “I know you saw the pictures online and decided to stay away, chose to be colleagues and possibly friends, and I’ve regretted every evening I’ve spent with other women, knowing it could drive away the woman I really want.”

Her lips part. She sits up, sliding her hands up my jean-clad legs, hands coming to rest on the creases of my hips, tantalizingly close to where I really want them.

“I always wanted this too, Janus. I just didn’t think I was glamorous or beautiful or famous enough for you, and I didn’t want to be second best, being compared and not reaching some gold standard.”

“Fuck, no.” I growl. “How could you even think that?” Damn, that’s crazy. “With what you do, what you’ve achieved? How gorgeous you are? Couldn’t you tell how into you I was every time we saw each other?”

She licks her lips and stares at me, mute. There’s a long thrumming moment when I’m looking into her dilated pupils. The air conditioning hums, water drips somewhere deep in the suite, muffled footsteps pad down the corridor. Eventually, she pulls back and stretches behind her, unzipping her dress and peeling it down her torso, and I lean backward, tugging it down and off as she lifts her hips. She’s all freckles and white lace. She unclasps her bra and lets it fall down her arms, lying back on her elbows.

My breath stutters in my chest. Seeing her for the first time … I’ve imagined this too often to be healthy. I want to touch, and I don’t. I want to put off knowing the feeling of her skin because, after that first stroke, I’ll want it again and again. Rushing through all these firsts … just …no way. A low rumble builds under my ribs as her eyes meet mine. The reality isinfinitelybetter than my imagination, patterns in the freckles, pink tips to her brown nipples, small and beautiful. I know without touching them they will fit my hands perfectly. I want trace and learn every mark.

“Good?” she says, her hand sneaking up my thigh again, and the scratch of her tiny fingers brings out goose bumps all over my body.

“You have no idea. Is it acceptable when you’re with a woman for the first time to spend hours staring?”

Her lips tip up. “You tell me. Although,”—she nods at my shirt—“I might well want to do the same.”

I laugh and she sits up, copper curls falling over one shoulder, reaching up to feather her lips over mine, her nipples brushing my chest and, with one tug on the back of my neck, my shirt is up and over my head, tossed roughly behind me.

Her mouth is a perfect O, and it is so fucking hot watching her shift back to look at me, eyes snagging on my nipples before concentrating on my happy trail disappearing down into my jeans.

“Good?” I echo her words.

She swallows. “I’ve imagined this, too … Well”—a pause—“maybe I’ve also looked at pictures of you online.”

I love Jo’s lack of filter sometimes.Hereis the evidence she’s been interested; that I’m not just persuading her into this.

“So, you searched for ‘Janus Phillips half naked’?” My eyebrows disappear into my hairline.

She grins, her hands coming up to trail down my chest, and my cock presses harder against my jeans as she feathers her fingers down the center of my stomach, playing with the soft hair there, skin jumping under her touch.

“Oh yes, but I only found one or two decent pictures. They’re my guilty pleasure.”

I can hardly stop myself from throwing her back on the bed and growling at her. I stare at her naked breasts, much closer now.

“Why aren’t you touching me?” she whispers, eyes meeting mine then dancing away again. A faint pink is blooming on her cheeks.

I roll my eyes. “Let me enjoy, okay? Once I feel how soft you are, I’ll never forget it. It will be better, but I don’t want to rush through the firsts; the first time I saw you naked and stared and stared.” I nod at her breasts and groan again. “I want to come all over you.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to swallow my tongue: Have I no filter either? But her eyes dance at me.

“Please?” she says, voice wobbling.

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