The throb in my left leg worsens-it always tenses up and gives me trouble after long flights. My temper starts to fray.
"If I want to give a woman something, she'll damn well take it and thank me."
"Then you should've fucked someone who would've damn well taken it and thanked you because I'm not her. Can I go now?"
"Who the hell was that guy?"
She looks at me blankly. "What guy?"
"The one at the bar who offered to pay you to join him in England."
"Drew?"
"Yes! Drew! Who apparently can pay for an entire damned trip, when I can't even share a flight with you." I sound like an asshole, but I can't help it. Jealousy is my least favorite emotion, and I'm feeling it all the way to my bones.
"He's a friend … "
A friend who was sitting entirely too close to her. A male friend who undoubtedly wants to get into her panties. A friend who isn't bad-looking … an unscarred and undamaged friend.
The impressions drip into my consciousness like acid. My hands clench, and I wish the bastard were here so I could punch him in the face and break his perfect nose.
" … and you're nothing."
The softly whispered words shatter my control. How can she toss me into the "nothing" category when I wanted to be her everything the moment I glimpsed her?
Ignoring the ache in my leg, I take two long and slightly uneven strides toward her. My hands cup her head, palms to cool cheeks, and my head dips.
My mouth slants over hers. Her lips stay closed, although she doesn't pull away. I don't want to force myself in. I want her to let me in, beg me for it.
Left without a way to get inside without bruising her tender flesh, I give her a few licks, coaxing her. Her jasmine and vanilla scent leaves me breathless with need. The feel of her smooth, soft lips … Jesus.
She lets out a low moan, and her lips part. Seizing the moment, I sweep in with my tongue. At the taste of her, I groan. She's just as sweet and lovely as I remember … No, even sweeter. I'm a man lost in the desert who's discovered an oasis. I can't stop drinking her in. The more I have of her, the more I want.
I'll never get my fill.
The thought is fleeting, stirring unease, but lust burns away all sanity. My hand fists in the warm silk of her hair, and I kiss her hard.
She clutches my shoulders, pulling me closer. She devours me back, her lips fused to mine. Her tongue strokes the inside of my mouth with a familiar boldness that boils my blood.
I want … Oh how I want …
My other hand is at the small of her back, drawing us together. She adjusts, fitting her body closer and cradling my erection in her lower belly the way she used to when she was turned on and wanted my cock sliding deep inside her.
The need to take her, to mark her as mine again, is becoming unbearable. Suddenly she pushes me away. The unexpected move almost makes me lose my balance, breaks my hold on her.
Ava breathes harshly as she stares at me, her eyes wide and impossibly blue. As control slowly returns to her, her kiss-swollen mouth sets in a tight line, as though she's rehearsing nasty things to say the moment I speak. She expects me to gloat, but that isn't my style.
I step forward, my hand reaching out, but she flinches and turns away. Her face is drawn and slightly pale-except for a red flush in her cheeks. She has to be jet-lagged from the red-eye, and she probably hasn't had more than a snack since landing in Osaka. She has a habit of skipping meals when she's tired or stressed. I noticed she didn't take a single bite of the chicken she ordered at the bar.
"I haven't had dinner yet, so I'm going to order something," I say.
"Go ahead. I'm not stopping you."
Good fucking god. Pushing down my mounting irritation, I call room service and order a rare Kobe-beef steak, chicken tenders and fries.
She crosses her arms. "That's a lot of food you're getting."
"I took you away from having your dinner, so it's the least I can do."
"No need. I lost my appetite the moment you showed up."
As soon as she finishes, her stomach rumbles. Her face turns bright red, and it's all I can do not to howl with triumph. I school my face to impassivity. "Your belly seems to disagree."
Her face turns even redder.
"Ava. Sit down." Without waiting for her, I take the sectional. She seats herself across from me in an armchair. Now her legs are crossed, too.
"I've made a decision."
"Oh, goody. As long as it involves you going back home tonight and never contacting me again."
"I told you, you took something from me. We never got to talk about that."
She goes still and slightly white. Her teeth bite into her lip and she looks at the curtains. "What is it you think I took from you?" Her voice is thin, almost inaudible.