I chuckled and flipped through the pages of the room service menu. “I’ll have her put it on my account.”
“I want to argue that I’m a man and don’t need you buying me suits, but you sign my paychecks. You’re paying for pretty much everything I own at this point.”
I sat down on the bed next to him and swept the dark-brown hair off his forehead. “I thought you quit.”
He rolled toward me and looped an arm around my hips. Then he dragged me to the bed. His heavy chest settled on top of mine, and his blue eyes smiled down. “Consider this me rescinding my resignation.” He sealed his decree with his mouth, my lips instantly parting to take it deeper, but it wasn’t enough.
For either of us.
He swung a leg over to straddle me as our tongues glided together. He’d discarded his jacket and his tie when we’d gotten back to the room, but he was still wearing the crisp, white shirt that clung to the hard lines of his chest and his back, taunting me. Not to mention the black pants that hugged his ass so perfectly I almost felt guilty about removing them.
Almost.
But not really.
My hands went for his belt.
“Wait,” he mumbled, but I swallowed it and pretended that it hadn’t happened. “Henry, wait.”
“You’re mispronouncing ‘fuck me.’” I continued trying to undo his belt with one hand while shifting my other down to his erection, which was straining in the front of his pants.
He hissed his approval and momentarily gave up the struggle—not that there was much of one.
“I want you so fucking bad.” I lifted my hips so our still-covered cocks ground together, and when he cursed, dropping his face to my neck, I went for the kill. “Evan.”
Only it wasn’t the kill I wanted.
I’d never seen a man fly away faster. He didn’t stop backing up until his ass was against the wall on the opposite side of the room.
While his chest heaved, his eyes held a feral intensity laced with a large dose of fear. “We need to talk.”
And, if that was the effect I had on him just by saying his name, I was starting to agree with him.
I knew the panic.
And I knew I loathed it covering his face.
“Okay. Let’s talk,” I said, sitting up and fisting the edge of the bed to keep from reaching for him.
Placing his hands on his hips, he sucked in a deep breath, his chest swelling as he held it.
“Evan…” I was careful not to put any emphasis on it so as not to risk setting him off again.
He watched me with notable unease, but as the muscles in his neck flexed and he rolled his shoulders back, staggering confidence appeared, banishing the anxiety. “Why did you leave me last week?”
I held his stare, “You know why. You talked to Levee.”
“I did. And she told me about your little King Kong fetish and how you don’t let anyone close. And she told me that it was a big fucking deal that you dropped your guard and opened up to me about your past. I could go on, but you know what? I’m not dating Levee. So I’d really like to hear this from you.”
I diverted my eyes to the floor and scoffed. “What else do you want me to say? I’m fucked up. End of story.”
“Fine. End of story. Get out.”
My head snapped up and I found an inferno blazing in his eyes.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re still playing games, so I said get out.” Cool, calm, casual… Definitive.
“How the fuck am I playing games?”
His jaw hardened as he tipped his head. “Holy shit. You don’t see it.”
I searched the room as if someone would magically appear and fill me in on what the hell he was talking about. His angry glower burned into me as I avoided his gaze.
“Clearly, I don’t,” I replied with a heavy sarcasm.
“Get out!” he erupted, swinging an arm to the door.
And, because sarcasm had worked so well the first time, my dumb ass decided to give it another go. “Uh…this is my room.”
He barked a laugh, but when I slowly lifted my head, I noticed that it held negative amounts of humor.
“You are absolutely right.” He stomped to the chair in the corner, grabbed his coat, and draped it over his arm before heading to the door.
Dread filled my stomach, and my mind screamed at me to stop him. I knew what was on the other side of that door—I’d been living it for the last week. And the panic that built at that reality was the only thing that got my mouth moving.
“I don’t know what you want me to say!” I pushed from the bed and folded my hands in prayer. “Tell me what you need to hear and I’ll say it every day for the rest of my life. I’m not playing games. I just don’t know what you need to hear.”
He stopped, but he didn’t give me his eyes. The muscles on his jaw jumped and his bicep flexed. Meanwhile, I held my breath for a miracle.
“Why did you leave?” he gritted out.
“Because I suck at letting people in.”
His gaze remained on the door as he imperceptivity shook his head. “Last chance.”