“You’re so violent, Amy,” Sean mused.
I twisted, trying to free myself from his grasp. “Gee, I wonder why?” This time I glowered at him unapologetically.
Sean chucked the Rubik’s Cube aside, before he reached for my other wrist and pulled me closer to him.
My breath laboured, not in fear but at the unexpected thrill that surged through me as my body pressed against his. Sean’s grip was still firm, but it was the working of a slow, hypnotic circle he traced in the palm of my hand that had me melting slightly into his hold.
“Is that why you brought me here, Amy? To play games?”
I could feel the warmth of Sean’s breath near my cheek as he leaned in to speak into my ear.
I swallowed hard, moving my head to the side. What could I possibly say? “Unlike you, I don’t play games”? But that was exactly what I was doing and I was playing against a professional player. Women were his hobby. I had seen it time and time again over the years downstairs in the Onslow; Sean being pawed over by all the beauties in town, admired like some god with their googly eyes and irritating giggles. Women threw themselves at him. And what was I? Some boarding-school city novice, who had spent her entire teenage years fabricating sex stories in the toilets of a private all-girls school. The only real sexual experiences in my whole life had been stolen moments in the spare room of my boyfriend’s house when no one was home. Simon had been a nice enough boyfriend, but the earth hadn’t moved; not once. My heart had never threatened to pound out of my chest with him; not like it was doing right now just from being so close to Sean.
The smell of his rich cologne, the feel of his work-roughened hands on my skin. What girl in Onslow hadn’t fantasised about having Sean Murphy in their bedroom come night-time, all alone in the dark? I fought to not make eye contact, afraid of what I might feel if I looked into his blue eyes; eyes that I could lose myself in, even from across a room.
Damn him!
I yanked at my wrists, but it was of no use; Sean just pulled me around like I was a rag doll and propped me on my desk to sit. Letting go of my wrists, he stood so close I felt like I was pinned, anyway. I rubbed at my wrists, casting him daggers. He smiled his crooked smile.
He placed his hands on either side of me. He leaned into me, his legs pressing my legs apart. I could feel his lips press against my ear. “How far are you willing to go, Amy?”
Chapter Thirty-One
How had this happened? When had I completely lost all control?
I had gone from supposedly having the upper hand, to everything turning upside down.
Sean was pushing my buttons again. He had a masterful way of making me come undone simply by a look, or his incredible smell, or the heat and feel of his hard body pressed against mine. Everything about the position, pressed between my desk and his body, should have made me feel trapped. I should have wanted to slip a dictionary inside my pillow case and whack him over the head with it.
But part of me didn’t want to do that at all, and that scared me. A piece of me enjoyed his touch and wanted to meet his challenge and that’s what all this was about, wasn’t it? Not letting him win – hadn’t that been what had got me here in the first place?
I didn’t know anymore. My head was fuzzy from his close proximity; I could barely think of what my next move should be. Then, like a hammer, it hit me: it was my turn to throw out a question, put the ball back into his court.
I let my defences down; I melted my rigid posture and slid forward, forcing him to move back a little to let my feet fall to the ground. He straightened, watching me with uncertainty.
I couldn’t help but smirk. Was that an air of unease surrounding him? From the way I’d moved forward, not taking my eyes from his, not once, I felt a surge of power. I had been so overcome with the what-ifs that I had completely lost focus.
It was about pushing him, making him feel uncomfortable. I had to spin this whole thing around. I edged forward, placing my hand on his chest until the backs of his legs hit the edge of my bed. Sean glanced back, then quirked a brow at me. I pushed him as hard as I could, forcing him into a sitting position. His cocky smile had vanished; instead, he looked up at me with a guarded, serious expression.
It was a standoff all right, move for move. He knew I was bluffing; he had said as much with his mocking words. “How far are you willing to go, Amy?”
He expected me to fold and then he would laugh with victory and get up and walk out of my room. Head out to the Point so as not to waste the night.
I was just Amy Henderson. The publican’s spoilt daughter, everyone’s kind of friend. For a moment I felt a cloud sweep over me – a dark cloud of resentment.