Over the course of that week, I learned little about him. He came from a wealthy family, yet he didn’t care to discuss them. Considering I had no family of my own, I understood and didn’t push the issue. He had majored in accounting and earned an MBA from Harvard. While investing was his day job, he mentioned dabbling in side projects from time to time, yet he didn’t elaborate. I wanted to know everything there was to know about him, but he wasn’t exactly an open book.
It was alluring, and even though I could’ve listened to him talk all day, he spent more of our time together asking about me, almost as if I were a research project and he wanted to know every single minute detail. His interest was flattering, but I wasn’t ready to talk about my parents. Tears welled in my eyes when I gave the simplest response: they’d been killed. The sympathy in his eyes helped soften my heart as he nodded and quickly switched topics. He respected my wishes and made me laugh every morning with endless questions about my hopes, dreams, and fears. Not once did he ask about my parents again, and for that, I was extremely grateful.
At the end of our sixty minutes, he’d walk me to the door and we’d say our goodbyes. Not once did he kiss me or invite me for another rendezvous at his place. By day seven, I was startled to realize I was becoming used to his presence, and I wanted so much more from him than just an hour in the morning. I also wanted to know why he kept showing up.
“Stalking me?” I teased on day number eight as he met me outside the building.
A devilish, almost villainous grin graced his lips as his eyes filled with amusement. “Oh, Gabriella, you’ve no idea,” he said. “I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t be here, but I can’t seem to help myself.”
His words caught me off guard as his hands gripped my hips and he pushed me backwards until the brick of the wall bit into the skin of my lower back. He leaned down until his lips were dangerously close to mine. My insides quivered, and my heart leaped into my throat. For an entire week, I’d been waiting for his hands to be on me again, and now that he was right there, I knew I’d die if he didn’t touch me. Kiss me. Take me home and ravish me like he had that first night.
“Adrian,” I whispered, surprised at the breathy, sultry tone of my voice. God, it’d only been a week and I was already dangerously addicted to him.
His eyes gleamed as if he could read my mind, and I wondered if this has been his plan all along. To give me a taste, a perfect sneak peek at what being his would be like, and then take it away, only to keep showing up to tease me. To dangle the proverbial carrot on the string that was too high for me to get a taste or even the slightest nibble. It would suffice only for a moment, but it would be just enough to keep me from going insane. He was a deranged Pavlov and I was his little dog, salivating and panting, wanting him, that torturous bell ringing over and over again, but instead of giving me what I wanted, he kept it too far out of reach.
I lifted my head towards his, trying to capture his mouth, but he pulled back. A whimper escaped me, and at that moment, I did feel like that dog. It was embarrassing, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone, and I’d do anything he asked. If he wanted me to be his plaything, I’d have agreed in a heartbeat. I’d have become one of those girl and I didn’t even care.
“Ah, ah. Not yet, sweet Gabriella,” he admonished.
Like an errant child, I looked away, abashed.
His fingers came to my chin and tilted it up, forcing me to look at him. “Do you want me?” he asked, his voice smooth.
God, did I ever. Couldn’t he see the way I was practically panting for him? I nodded my affirmation.
He cocked his head to the side as he peered down at me. “Use your words.”
Swallowing hard, I took a deep breath and gazed up into darkened, green eyes that were boring into mine. “Yes, Adrian. I want you. So much.”
“Good girl.” He smiled wickedly, causing my cheeks to flush. “I apologize for keeping you waiting, but I had to be sure that our . . . compatibility went further than twenty-four hours. It’s just . . . I don’t do this, usually. The whole relationship thing. But with you? I’m finding I want to even though everything in me is screaming at me not to get involved. I don’t care.”
It seemed odd at the time, and I wanted to ask why he shied away from relationships. And why would he want one with me? Something told me to let it go and focus on the rest of what he’d said. I decided it was a sweet gesture that he’d taken the time to get to know me instead of just trying to hop back into my pants, especially if that was new for him. Cue another damn prick of Cupid’s arrow. I was his.
“I understand. I’m glad, Adrian,” I told him. “That you want this with me, I mean. Out of all the women you could have.”
His expression darkened as he looked down at me. “Once you are mine, you will never be one of many. I assure you,” he whispered, sending a jolt of electricity down my spine.
It warmed me to know he remembered and cared enough to soothe my previous unease. His? Did he, this gorgeous, enigmatic, seemingly larger-than-life man, actually want me as much as I did him? God, I hoped so.
“Umm, okay,” I squeaked out, sounding much younger than my age of twenty-two and wanting to kick myself for it.
However, a grin formed on his face as he pressed himself against me, his steely erection hardening against my stomach. Evidently, he liked me like this.
“I do want you, Gabriella. I want you for more than just one night. More than just an hour in the morning. I want all of your nights. All of your mornings. Every single hour of every single day. I want all of it, all of you,” he growled, low and deliberate, for only me to hear as he pressed harder into me as if he were emphasizing his admission. “And when I want something, I will stop at nothing until it’s mine.”
In hindsight, I should have noticed then his use of “it” as if I were a possession and not a woman, but I was too aroused, too enamored, and too drunk with lust to notice. Instead, my hands slid up his chest and locked around his neck, my eyes flashing with desire.