Addicted for Now (Addicted #2)(34)

“Lo,” she cries. “I think you should leave.”

My chest falls. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And before she can refute, I kiss her. I part her lips with my tongue, and she clenches my shirt, her soft moans like thank yous. Each one drives me harder, and my movements become as hungry as hers. I lift her in my arms, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist. And I knock her back into the wall. Her voice is lost in the base of my neck, her forehead pressing to my shoulder.

“I need you,” she whispers, panicked. “Please…” The fear in her voice cuts a new scar.

“Shh, love.” I rub my hand through the back of her hair, and I nip her ear with my teeth. She shudders against me. I want her to release, but I feel like there’s no winning with this one. If I let her go, she’ll masturbate. If I f*ck her, she’ll hate herself. If I make her come, she’ll still be filled with shame and guilt for not lasting five hours.

There is no right answer, no f*cking break. And so each stroke against her flesh is seared with tension and a strong ache, my heart pounding like a jackhammer to cement.

And I kiss her again, my lips swelling beneath her eagerness, her insistency to push deeper, to go farther. She runs her bitten nails across my back, not sharp enough to draw blood, not even long enough to truly scratch, but she digs her fingers into my skin. She grips so fiercely, as though I am two seconds from dropping her. From saying no.

My brain clicks, and the blacklist isn’t hazy anymore. We can’t do this. I retract my lips from her, and I don’t meet her eyes.

I f*cked up.

I want to punch the wall. I want to scream. More than anything, I want to go sit at a bar and forget the road I was about to pull Lily down. What the f*ck is wrong with me?

“Lo…”

I bring her to her feet, and she wobbles unsteadily. I keep a hand on her waist, but there’s considerable amount of distance between us.

“What did I do…?” Her high-pitched voice lurches my stomach.

“Nothing,” I say, tucking another piece of hair behind her ear.

“Then we can do something…” She grips my shirt again, clenching the fabric between two panicked fists.

I pry her fingers from me. “We can’t have sex here, and I can’t touch you here either.” But she can’t wait until tonight.

She nods rapidly. And as the news settles with her, she pulls her shoulders back like I’ve seen Rose often do. She raises her chin, trying to be strong. Christ, I want to her kiss her for it and to apologize for tempting her even more. I should have taken her to our house where we can have sex. In fact, that’s what we’re going to do now.

“Grab your stuff,” I tell her. “We’re going home, and I’ll make you come there.” My tone isn’t sexy. It’s clinical. I just want her to be able to wait until we reach our bedroom.

I find her jeans on the ground, and I help put her legs in each pant hole.

“Wait,” she says.

I don’t want to give her the chance to convince me to have sex with her in the bathroom. It’s not happening. I already screwed up by arousing her more—I don’t need to break anything on that blacklist.

Public sex—yeah, that’s not f*cking allowed.

I zip up her jeans and fish the button through, towering over her with dominance that makes her squirm. I want to kiss her. God, I just want to hold her. But instead of drawing towards Lily, I have to draw back.

“Wait,” she says again, more forceful this time. She grabs my wrist to stop me. “You’re not going home.”

“I’m not leaving you,” I say. I don’t add that I don’t trust her. Her fingers may slip into her panties; she may give herself what I’ve denied.

“You’re working,” she reminds me, tears building again. “I’m not ruining your first job.” She inhales a strong breath and adds, “I’ll stay at my desk, and when you’re done working, we can go.”

I hesitate.

“You should only be one more hour. I can wait that long.”

“Plus the ride home,” I remind her.

She nods quickly. “Yes, yes.”

I like this option. Mostly because Lily came up with the idea, and it’ll lessen whatever guilt she’ll feel for not being able to wait tonight. “Okay.” I kiss her cheek. And she sighs, but as she walks to the door, the tension becomes apparent in the way her thighs press together.

I lead her out of the bathroom, and we enter the loft space where Trish and Katie fling clothes at one another, fixing the garments on the models quickly. I look around for Rose, but she’s nowhere in sight.

Lily keeps her eyes pinned to the desk and nowhere else. “I’ll be okay,” she says, more to herself than me.

“I know you will.”

I watch her make the short journey to her desk. She slides into her chair and studies her computer screen, focused and concentrated. Maybe it’s all a fa?ade. But I know she’s trying damn hard.

I need to find Rose to tell her that I’m leaving right after I finish with the fitting. There aren’t many places she could be. Besides her glass office, there’s only the backroom. I saunter down the short hallway, my shoulders stiff. I stuff my fists in my pockets so they’ll stop shaking. I feel high on fear and concern, my adrenaline spiked badly. I just need a drink.