Sex Retreat(29)

“Mitch,” she breathed, her eyes meeting his as he stalked her.

“Miss me?” he asked, that dark, brooding demeanor only accentuating his confidence, proving he knew he was the reason why she was awake, why she’d gone to the kitchen and poured herself a couple of drinks.

“How did you get in?” she asked, a stupid question considering the fact that he owned the place. Her pulse tickled her wrist as the palpitations increased in speed. “I mean, I…we…didn’t hear you.”

“I ask you a question, sub. Did you miss me?” He rolled his tongue over his bottom lip and stared at her as if he were looking at her for the very first time. His gaze dipped lower. A guttural sound slipped from his lips before his eyes met hers one more time. “I sure as hell missed you.”

“Why didn’t you call?” she asked, her fingers still curved around the glass even though she’d returned the tumbler to the kitchen counter. Her hand shook violently. Oh God, she wanted to go to him. She wanted to leap into his arms and never let go!

“Did you want me to call?” he asked, standing in front of her then.

“I…” Her throat constricted and she released the glass, nervously clasping her hands in front of her body.

He lifted a brow. “Did you want to hear from me, sub?”

This time the reference made her jerk. A warm sensation washed over her as numerous emotions collided.

“I wanted you to call,” she whispered. “The last time we spoke was when you found out about Jordie Anne. I told you I loved you and—”

“Say it now,” he said, cupping the side of her face.

Before she thought of any ramifications, she turned her lips to his palm and nuzzled his hand. A deep, masculine growl resounded and he gripped a handful of hair, moving closer. “I want you to tell me now and mean it.”

Trixie looked up at him. She was in tune with her body then, so aware of her reaction to a man who had once controlled her with his voice—inflections, tone, and even the words he’d often choose to say.

“Let me hear you, sub. Tell me what you feel in your heart.”

Tears finally seeped from the corners of her eyes.

They stayed locked in a knowing gaze, a challenging one with telling signs. Finally, a gasp fell from her lungs and she quickly shook her head and backed away, turning to face the sink again.

Mitch moved closer. He locked his arms around her waist and nuzzled her hair. His erection pressed against her ass as those thick limbs rested right under her breasts.

“I’ve thought about you every hour since we’ve been apart,” he whispered, nipping at her ear. “We’ve wasted so much time, sub.”

Her breasts were fuller then. Another quick vibration zipped through her body and she took a ragged breath, trying to find the courage to speak, wanting to tell him the way she felt, but also desperate to warn him, to explain why she couldn’t be with him.

There was no way she could revel in Mitch, enjoy the benefits of his body and the loving she longed to experience until she received Brock and Rory’s blessings.

“You walked away from me,” she reminded him.

“You pushed me away.”

“But you left.”

He pressed his palm to the curve of her waist and forced her to look at him. “You know why.”

She blinked and tried to focus, tried to see beyond those flawless features which represented one well-stocked body. Mitch had always been a billboard for sex—hard-core, desirous, and the very meaning of no-holds-barred, limitless fucking.

Dark eyes, darker hair, a thin, angular nose, and beautiful, full lips were enough to make a woman look twice. But let him strip off his shirt and step away from those jeans, and he could own a woman. She would become his, inexplicably and hopelessly his, especially after he took her to his bed.

Before she thought better of it or even considered the potential consequences, she reached for him. Cupping his face, she said softly, “I dream of you.”

“Tell me.” He gripped her wrist with both hands. “What do you fantasize about, sub?”

“Please stop calling me that,” she said, though her request was anything but sincere.

Mitch’s lips curved in a wicked smile. “I could test your limits, sub.”

She didn’t doubt his abilities for a second. She knew as sure as she was standing there gawking at a man she once nicknamed Zeus because of his godly features and perfect complexion, that if he wanted to test her, he could push her to the brink and leave her writhing underneath him.

Trixie moistened her lips. “Please don’t.”

“Tell me about those dreams.” His long eyelashes fluttered. He lowered his eyes. He released her arm and clutched her torso, his hand evenly with the side of her breast. “Tell me how you’ve imagined us together, sub.”