Page 124 of Score
The silence on the line stretches to the point of breaking.
“Okay,” I finally say, hating the strain my overreaction has introduced into the conversation. “I’ll bring my stuff and we can go.”
“Why was that so hard?” he asks, some of the stone crumbling in his tone.
I stand and pace around the kitchen, phone pressed to my ear.
“I like what this is, what we’re doing, and I know as soon as folks find out, they’ll be all up in our business,” I say. “We understand it, but they’ll try to shape it into something we don’t want it to be.”
“I get that,” he says after a few seconds. “Yeah, I don’t want them trying to make this more than it is.”
An ache throbs behind my ribs, but I force myself to say, “Exactly. Glad we’re on the same page.”
“We are. See you soon.”
I’m pretty sure I handled that badly, but I pack my bag and head over. The smell and sizzle of food hits my senses as soon as Monk opens the door. We stare at each other, and I feel every minute we’ve been apart over the holiday break. Excitement pounds the pulse at my neck, my wrists, at the sight of him. Finally.
“Hey,” he says, pulling me in by the hand and taking my bag. “I’ll take this upstairs.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I follow and try to steady my breathing, eyeing the long line of his back, the tight curve of his ass, and the flex of his bicep as he carries my overnight. I’m such a creeper, but I haven’t seen or smelled or kissed him in two weeks. I’m climbing the stairs behind him when he turns and lets the bag fall to the step. He hooks an arm around my waist and presses me to the wall.
“I was really trying to wait,” he mutters, “but fuck it.”
He lowers his mouth to mine and drinks from me like he’s parched. Eats into the kiss like a starving man, and I’m just as voracious. I lift up onto my toes to kiss him hard, uncorking all the passion I’ve been trying to hide since he opened the door. He groans, the sound vibrating through my lips and plucking a chord that goes straight to my pussy. Never breaking the kiss, he eases down on the stairs and I crawl over him, straddle him, my thighs bracketing his hips and my knees digging into the step. He slides his hand between us and slips into my jogging pants. I spread my legs wider, and when he pushes my panties aside and touches me, my head falls back. I gasp and squeeze my eyes shut.
“This for me?” he growls, running his fingers through the hot, wet slickness between my legs. “You been thinking about my dick?”
“Yes,” I cry out, rocking into his touch, nearly sobbing. “So much, constantly since the last time. I missed—”
I choke the words down. I shouldn’t have said it. It’s too much. I’m too much. He’s not here for that.
He pulls back and searches my eyes. “I missed it, too.”
We both said I missedit, but his eyes seem to sayI missed you, andI bet mine say the same. I have to remind myself this is not what itfeelslike. It’s familiar affection, sizzling attraction, and the best sex of my life, yes, but this isn’t college. Our past may be water mostly under the bridge, but there’s no real future for us. Not one I feel comfortable counting on. Am I lonely? Yes, sometimes, but when it’s just you, there is less collateral damage if things go off the rails. The last time it felt like this, I took Monk down with me when I crashed, when I burned.
I won’t do that to either of us again.
FORTY
Monk
A few cars ahead, Verity climbs out of her navy-blue Audi Q5, then hands the keys to the hotel valet with a smile. She doesn’t seem to notice all the eyes following her progress toward the entrance. On set and around the house, her hair is often pulled into a topknot or scraped back, but tonight the curls are liberated, floating in thick, loose coils to frame her face and brush her shoulders. She shadowed her eyes in violet and smoke, outlined in coal. Nude lipstick completes the look. Her floor-length dress is gold and glittery, the strapless style baring her arms and shoulders. A split stops mid-thigh, exposing the coppery brown length of one leg with every step. Sparkling hoops decorate her ears and peek through the strands framing her face.
Something twists in my chest as I watch her disappear and wait my turn in the queue of cars. Judging by the way half the men gathered out front can’t keep their eyes off her, it’s going to be a long night. I try to ignore the surge of possessiveness, the primal instinct to hiss and bare my teeth at anyone who might take what’s mine.
But she’s not mine.
“You did this to yourself,” I mutter under my breath, handing the valet my keys. “You came up with this stupid arrangement.”
When I enter the hotel lobby, the elevator doors are closing, but someone holds them for me.
“Thanks,” I say, stepping in, only to roll my eyes when I see who caught the doors. “Well, damn. I thought I’d have at least a few more days before you started disturbing my peace again.”
“Happy New Year to you, too, Monk.” Jill grins, bright blond hairslicked back and her colorful tattoos on display in a sleeveless party dress. “I thought you’d be in some other country for the holidays.”
“Not this year.” I greet her with a hug before turning to the tall, quiet man beside her. “Good to see you again, Seth.”
