I was determined to never let myself think otherwise, thinking that would end things, but it didn’t.

I can still remember the day he changed the rules of the game and upped the stakes. I was in the kitchen, making myself coffee, when I felt his presence. I knew it was him even without turning my head. Knew it was him but I still kept praying. Please God, don’t torture me so.

But just like Poseidon and Athena in the Trojan war, my God was on the side of Greeks that day, and I found myself freezing like an idiot as I felt him coming closer.

A second later, and he was standing right behind me, so damn close that his aftershave literally became a force of seduction, and I was this close to choosing not to breathe just so I wouldn’t be tempted to throw myself at him.

Jesus H. Christ, but how did a man smell this good?

“Sorry.” His voice was deep and strongly accented. “I just need to reach for something.” A shadow fell over me as he spoke, and I looked up to see his strong arms stretched out above me as he reached to open the cupboards.

It was torture, just pure nervewracking sensual torture to simply stand there and hope and pray that nothing I would do in the next ten seconds would give me away. If I backed even an inch, I was terrified I’d be pushing my ass into his groin, and God knew what would happen after that.

An entire century seemed to have passed by the time he moved away, and I tried not to make any noise as I quickly gulped back air into my lungs.

“Thanks,” I heard him murmur a moment later.

I nodded without looking his way and told myself that the wickedness I detected in his voice was just another thing I was imagining. But of course I was wrong, and that was just the beginning.

He was so dangerously good at flirting that even though I was already on my guard he’d still catch me unawares. I’d be walking in one direction when I’d suddenly feel him walking the opposite way, and as our sides brushed, his fingers would tangle with mine ever so briefly.

The first time it happened, the jolt of electricity from where our skins came into contact had left me so stunned that I literally tripped over my feet. The second time it happened, I was more prepared, but that brief stolen touch still burned. It always burned, and every time it happened, I’d find myself catching my breath and feeling hot and restless inside.

I prayed and prayed that he’d lose interest in me, knowing he was trouble I couldn’t afford, but instead things just got worse. I found myself craving for his stares even as I never made the mistake of meeting his gaze. I found myself aching for those forbidden little touches even though I never let myself touch him back. And at night…I couldn’t help myself any longer. I had learned how to pleasure myself at an early age, and it was one of the reasons why I never felt the pressure to find myself a lover. But one thing I had never done was to imagine a real man doing it to me while I stroked my folds and played with the little nub between my legs.

Never.

Until him.

A part of myself had been foolishly convinced that no matter how worse it got, nothing would come out of it. That this was a game and would always remain one. That even if it might hurt my ego badly, one day he’d lose interest and he’d move on to the next available woman.

But as you might have guessed by now, I was wrong about this, too.

I was alone at the elevator, and the doors were about to close when I saw him. Shit. Shit. Shit. I was tempted to ignore all the rules about good behavior and proper etiquette and just let the doors close. And when our gazes inevitably clashed, the wicked glint of amusement in his piercing green eyes told me he was expecting me to do exactly that.

But if I did, then wouldn’t that be admitting to how much he affected me, and I’d end up winning the battle but losing the war?

Shit. Shit. Shit. I kept cursing in my mind even as I reluctantly hit the Open button, and I cursed even more when he stepped inside to join me, and the faint scent of his aftershave once again invaded my world. Shiiiiiiiiiiiit. But this time, my silent curse came accompanied by a sinking feeling in my stomach, and I fixed my gaze at the wall in a desperate bid to avoid the temptation of looking his way.

Come on, elevator, hurry the fuck up. Surely, any moment now, the doors would o…oh my God!


Tags: Marian Tee Billionaire Romance
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