Page 64 of Under Pressure

“Do I look like a freeloader to you?” she asks, anxiety obvious in her tone.

“No. But I can tell you exactly how I do see you, if that will help.”

She blushes all the way to the deep blue beneath her eyes. “That’s not necessary.”

I keep one hand flush to the island when I move around it. She loses the staring contest when her eyes fall to my fingers, watching them travel across the marble. I ignore the tightness in my crotch that begins to ache deeper the closer I get to her. Her perfume hits me before the warmth of her body does.

I’ve gone slow, watched and learned how she reacts to my closeness, the subtle touches I give her. She’s yet to tell me off for brushing her skin with my knuckles or inhaling her scent, so I’ll take the risk of pushing it a bit further. Hearing her talk about her grandmother and opening up to me tonight, even just enough to give me a sliver of insight into her past, was a step in the right direction. It’s given me too many ideas, and there’s only one way to know for sure if they’re the wrong ones.

The hitch in her breath comes first. My free hand lands on her waist, and I keep it there, watching as she lifts her gaze and finds mine waiting. I almost moan when I see just how strongly my touch affects her. To see it from a distance is one thing, but to watch as her eyes bore into mine with such open desire . . . I dip my fingers into the silk at her hip and scrunch it in my fist.

“When I look at you, I see someone who has never had anyone else take care of her. I see independence and the certainty that you know what you need and how to get it for yourself. And I won’t lie to you and say that I don’t want to be the one to show you just how fucking fun it would be to let me help you. I’ve got big shoulders, baby. I can carry some of that weight for a few minutes every day. All you’ve got to do is let me.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe. But I’m also stubborn, romantic, and one hell of a kisser.”

Her laugh is so soft it’s almost a giggle. The noise embarrasses her, but she doesn’t pull away.

“Romantic, hmm? If you’re so perfect, why are you single?”

“Very, actually. You need someone to carry you over puddles or buckle the straps of your heels, I’m your guy. I’ll stand outside Blank Page with a boom box if it’ll have you laughing like that again.”

The soft, curious feel of her fingers against the front of my shirt makes my brain misfire. I groan, unable to trap the reaction. She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth when she hears it, and I pray to a god I don’t believe in that she isn’t going to stop touching me because of it.

My skin burns beneath my shirt. The only functioning part of my brain is telling me to strip off the annoying barrier so that she can touch me properly. I’d drop to my knees right here and fucking beg for her to do it if I didn’t think that would spook her. Instead, I bite down on my tongue until it throbs and hold myself still.

Her red lashes are bare as they whisper across the thin skin beneath her lowering eyes. They travel across the length of my shoulders, then dip to my chest, where she’s pinching the fabric now, rubbing it between her fingertips.

“Is this about the chase?” she murmurs, voice strained. “Once I say yes, is that going to be it?”

“No. Not a fucking chance.”

“I’m not looking for a relationship. I don’t have the bandwidth for one right now, and I doubt you do, either.”

“So we don’t have one, then.”

She slides her hand up beneath my shirt. I lean against the island, sucking air between my teeth as I grow rigid.Too much. I’m unwinding too quickly, but fuck—she’s running a nail between my abs now, exploring my body like I’d let that earlier plea escape and she’s simply giving me what I want. I grit my teeth and press my knuckles into the marble, desperate to feel something other than this raging need to kiss her.

“Ruthie will ask where I’ve been staying. I avoided it today, but I won’t be able to for much longer. And once I tell her it waswith you, we’ll need to get our stories straight. We only date in front of her. And only for long enough that she can see I’m not allergic to men and move on,” she adds softly.

“You can call the shots, Quinny. Just tell me that I get to kiss you soon.”

She stills her exploration as her head tips back. The height difference between us is another one of my favourite things. How someone so short can carry such an attitude is beyond me. But fuck if I’m not head over heels for it.

“You want to kiss me that much?”

I drag my palm up her side, pushing her shirt up with it. My eyes latch onto her lips, and all the different ways I want to touch them flood my mind, turning the edges of my vision black.

“So fucking bad, baby,” I whimper.

The last thing I expect is for her to give me anything. But she does, and the moment her lips brush the corner of my mouth, I stop breathing entirely. I lean forward, too greedy not to take as much as I can from this moment. Her soft breath whispers across my skin, and I shudder, clutching onto her side for balance.

“Get some sleep tonight, Beck,” she murmurs before retreating.

The ghost of her kiss lingers as I curl my fingers around nothing and watch her turn down the hall. Bodi hops off the couch and follows her like a shadow, leaving me alone to revel in what just happened.

And how sure I am that this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.