Desire Me

She followed. “You’re not really convincing me—or anyone else—otherwise.”


He stopped behind the sofa, leaned against it, and then faced her again. “Because letting it show doesn’t do anyone any good.” He raked his fingers through his hair. He snagged the ponytail holder, yanked it out with a snarl, and tossed it aside. “We don’t own the company anymore. We’re not even being offered noticeable shares of DM as part of our buyout. We’re not in charge. It’s all gone. I’m not surrendering because I want to, or because I like watching people I trust and respect suffer. We don’t have a choice.” Each word was clipped and distinct.

The hint of vulnerability dug deep, and Rae couldn’t suppress her sympathy. Seeing this side of him gnawed at her. Made her want to tug at the loose thread and see what else she could reveal. She crossed her arms and rested her butt against the back of the couch, her hip brushing his. “It just seems so final. It doesn’t even directly impact me, and still it hurts to see it all ripped away.”

He dragged in a long breath. “How do you think I feel? I don’t know what else to tell you. I don’t have a magic answer. We can’t talk or buy our way out of this. Scott’s genius won’t save us. I can’t spin some bullshit for the internet to make us shine. You don’t think I like that, do you?”

“No.” She frowned. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“It’s a pretty common sentiment these days.” He shifted his weight, and his arm pressed against hers.

A shock of warmth rushed through her at the contact. It was comfortable, pleasant, and with the animosity of the conversation directed at something besides them—alluring. Not that it mattered. Despite his earlier jab about being on top, sleeping together hadn’t granted them closure. Giving into the attraction again wouldn’t yield a different result. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’ll let you get back to… Whatever”

“For what it’s worth…” He grabbed her arm loosely and tugged, prompting her to face him. He pulled her between his legs, dropped his hands to her hips, and then hooked his thumbs in her belt loops. “I appreciate the passion. It’s just a shame it’s misplaced. At least you’re being rational about it. We’ve been pretending for months it wasn’t happening.”

She should step back, but the contact was comforting, summoning more memories she’d tried to repress. This time she let them dance through her thoughts. The reminder of how he tasted. His tight grip when he was lost in the moment. Their bare skin pressed together. Maybe this was a chance to make her apology about their past sincere. “Believe it or not, sometimes I’m willing to find common ground.”

He gave a short laugh and tightened his grip on her hips. “I know I said a lot of things the other night, but I didn’t mean to cast all the blame with you. I played just as much a part in fucking us up. Sometimes I’m even a little envious at your ability to just let go.”

Odd statement. “I don’t let go. I just hold different things close than you do.”

“Sometimes I envy that too.” He unhooked his thumbs from her belt loops and then nudged up the bottom of her shirt until his palms caressed her skin. “For instance, what were you two doing before reality interrupted the afternoon?”

She draped her wrists over his shoulders and intertwined her fingers at the base of his neck. A tiny voice whispered they were getting too intimate, but each touch and movement felt right. “Tetris.”

“See? I couldn’t do that.”

She didn’t know which struck her curiosity more—that he was expressing interest in how she spent her free time, or that he thought for some reason playing video games was off limits to him. “Why not?”

He shrugged. “I fell behind that curve a long time ago. I suck at anything that requires a controller.”

She wanted to laugh at the simple statement, but the serious crease in his brow made her suppress the impulse. “You ask me to control any kind of digital weapon, and I get my ass kicked. It doesn’t stop me from playing when I want.”

He shook his head. “Like you said, we hold different things close.”

“Like your ego?” There was no malice in the thought, and she hoped it didn’t come off that way.

He shrugged. “Tell me your ego has never held you back from doing something.”

His words should have put her on edge, but the conversation didn’t feel threatening. His comment was thought-provoking, but still casual. Like those talks they’d had when they were younger, that kept them out long past curfew, sitting on the grass in some park, wrapped in each other’s arms. “It absolutely has, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good excuse.”

Elle Boon, C.C. Cartwright, Catherine Coles, Mia Epsilon, Samantha Holt, J.W. Hunter, Allyson Lindt, Kathryn Kelly, Tracey Smith's books