His simple, direct, sure response fanned that fire that seemed to burn inside her, making her feel almost feverish. The pulsing in her body redirected itself to between her legs.
‘I just want to know what that hesitation was. I need to be sure.’
‘That wasn’t about this. But I guess I’ll just have to convince you.’
She was proud of herself for keeping the shake out of her tone as she stepped back into his circle of space and ran her finger lightly down his sharp jawline. Then, with a whisper-light touch, she brushed her lips on his. His response was immediate, as she’d hoped it would be.
This time his kiss was hotter, hungrier, and lethally practised. His hands moving over her body trailed sparks in their wake. Her body thrummed beneath his touch and dimly she acknowledged that after sleeping with Fitz there would be no going back. She would never be the same again. Sex would never be the same again.
Elle trembled at the mere thought, and it seemed to spur Fitz on as he muttered against her lips.
‘Then let’s get out of here.’
Chapter Four (#ueff8d483-aaf6-57d5-903b-a530a6452480)
IT WAS ALL Fitz could do to keep a controlled pace, with her boots echoing quickly next to him, their arms entwined. As if he could outpace the niggle of doubt, the wondering if this was a bad idea.
Not because he didn’t want her. Because he did. God knew, his body ached for her—literally. And not because he hadn’t had one-night stands before. He’d had his share.
But there was something different about Elle.
It had been so subtle that he hadn’t really noticed it at first. He’d been drawn in by the attraction, nothing more. The realisation had been more recent, when it was too late to do anything about it; somewhere along the line, Elle had begun to scrape away at something deep inside him. She made him feel more than just physical attraction. She piqued his interest, stirred his soul. She made him feel a connection between the two of them.
Uncovering a truth about himself that he’d buried a long time ago.
And he couldn’t afford to let her.
Because the truth was that he couldn’t allow himself to feel any connection. He couldn’t allow himself emotions. A mutual physical attraction was one thing, but anything more and he’d end up destroying the other person.
Hadn’t he learned as much from his mother? His sister? Janine?
All three of them. Crushed. Shattered. Two of them dead. All because he’d let them down, betrayed them.
Fitz had sworn he’d never let himself get close to another person to hurt them like that, and for over ten years he’d managed just that. One-night stands or short-lived relationships had kept that loneliness, that darkness at bay. His career had done the rest and Fitz didn’t intend for it to end any time soon, which was easier said than done.
It was part of the natural military order that a good proportion of officers didn’t progress to the next rank, with multiple majors all after a handful of lieutenant colonel postings. Fitz’s aim was to become a full colonel, then brigadier beyond that. But right now there were multiple new lieutenant colonels like him, all fighting for the same single position. It was a matter of dedicating oneself to rising through the officer ranks with focus, speed and ability, sacrificing personal relationships with barely a second thought.
Now, suddenly, for the first time he found himself standing still for a moment, taking stock and wondering what his life might have been like if he’d made different choices. And he couldn’t afford to think that way because there was no other choice for him.
He was damaged. Hadn’t Janine told him so? And hadn’t her father told him that he destroyed lives? Weren’t his mother and sister proof of that?
‘Fitz? What is it?’
It was only when Elle swung around to face him, stopping him altogether, that Fitz realised he’d slowed down to almost a standstill. He made himself look her in the eye.
It was a mistake. Emerald depths stared unblinkingly back at him, wide and intelligent.
‘You understand tonight is all I can offer you?’ He barely recognised the raw quality to his voice.
‘I know that.’
The almost imperceptible quiver in her response gave her away. He had to force himself to continue, even as his brain was screaming at him that he was just trying to come up with excuses and he couldn’t explain why.
‘Yes, but do you really understand what that means?’
Elle snorted, but her eyes dropped momentarily from his as though she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
‘Of course I do. I’m pretty sure the term one-night stand is self-explanatory.’
‘And you said yourself that up until two weeks ago you’d been with one man for fourteen years. Are you sure you’re prepared for a one-night stand?’
‘Are you saying I’m too sweet? Because, believe me, I’ve heard that before.’
‘There are two kinds of sweet, Just Elle: naughty and nice.’ Was that really his voice, so thick and carnal? ‘I’m trying to work out which one you are.’
He couldn’t help himself. Lifting a finger, he traced the velvet-soft skin of her cheek. She swallowed.
‘Why don’t you kiss me again and find out?’
Before he realised it, he’d hooked his finger under her chin and dropped an obliging, if restrained kiss on those deliciously swollen lips.
Another mistake.
Her eyes were glassy with desire, only serving to stoke the furnace that was already consuming him from the inside out. He wanted her with a ferocity he’d never known before. Not even with Janine.
Elle might look wholesome but she tasted like pure sin, even without that wantonly lithe body pressed so tightly against his. Without knowing it, he’d already memorised everything about her, from the way that autumnal curtain tumbled and bounced past her shoulders and down her back to the way her leather trousers clung so lovingly to her feminine curves and the shimmering, metallic green top that skimmed her waist and swung to reveal a gap at the back, giving tantalisingly discreet glimpses of smooth, bare skin.
And then she stepped into him again and there was nothing discreet about the way the hard buds of her nipples pushed through the thin material, or the way his thumb seared as he slid it into the gap and ran it down her exposed back. Not to mention the seductive heat between her legs, which was pure, full-on sexy.
‘What did you decide?’ she managed, her breathing rapid and shallow.
That she abraded a deep, black part of himself that he couldn’t allow to be exposed. That he should walk away from her now. That he wanted her with a hunger he couldn’t seem to control.
‘I didn’t,’ he growled.
‘Then let me make it easier for you. Tonight I’m the naughty side of sweet, and I want you. And you said you want me too.’
The husky whisper was his undoing.
Yes, he was toxic. To forget that was to step onto a dangerous track. If he went to Elle’s hotel tonight, if he slept with her—and, God, he wanted to—then that had to be it. Like any other time, like any other woman. Sex was simply sex. Whatever it was that she scraped away inside him, he could shut that down. He had to.
Fitz cupped her head in his hands and kissed her fiercely again, as if testing himself, as if proving that the physical could be split out from anything else that had no business swirling around his chest. He kissed her until his head sparked and his body ached with such intensity it was almost agony, until he was finally convinced he was back on solid ground and it was all about the physical again.
And then he grabbed her hand and led her to the hotel and into the lift, barely releasing her long enough to press the button for the floor before pulling her against him, her back up to his chest, sliding that glorious curtain of hair to one side and dipping his head on the other side to kiss the base of her neck, as she leaned back into him and sighed softly. Perfectly.
* * *
They tumbled into her room. The heavy wooden door, restrained by its soft closing mechanism, seemed to close too slowly for Elle, firing up her sense of anticipation. Then, when it finally shut with an audible click, the weight of expectation that accompanied that soft sound was unmistakeable.