I reach the sofa bed and Rowan slowly stands. I’m aware of his breaths and his beats as if they were my own, and I’m aware of the urge that screams inside him as if it were coming straight from my throat. And I know that even though this is a risk we shouldn’t be taking, he wants it at least as much as I do.
“Tell me you still have the fucking glitter on you.” His deep voice makes me shudder.
“I didn’t have time to take it off.”
Rowan comes towards me. “Oh no?”
“I-I was in a hurry.”
Another step. His hot body presses against mine. The sexual energy he radiates is so strong and overwhelming, I almost lose my balance.
“In a hurry, huh?”
“I didn’t want to risk you falling asleep.”
He barely laughs.
“Or that you would change your mind.”
He looks at me. His eyes cut through the darkness, swallowing my words, my breath and me whole.
“Come here.” His raspy voice pleads.
“Rowan…” I hold my breath. “The trial…” I try, afraid to take a rash step and ruin everything we’ve achieved for the kids.
His hand slips behind my neck, his seductive fingers running through my hair and I tremble with excited anticipation.
“This… this has nothing to do with the trial.”
“And what are we… what are you…”
“This has everything to do with you and… With me getting hard when you move your ass in front of me.”
Oh shit.
Rowan’s turned on and rough is a big deal, just like the one I feel pressing against my erection.
“A-are you serious?”
“I don’t know how that’s possible, believe me, but it is.”
I push him away, immediately regaining all my senses. “What do you mean?”
“What…”
“Am I, by any chance, just an experiment? Or an adventure that you don’t share with your friends?”
“What are you saying?”
“You find it hard to believe that you could be attracted to a guy like me?”
“No, that wasn’t what I meant…”
I move away from him immediately and head for the kitchen. Rowan follows me. “Seth, please…” He tries to grab my arms, but I push him away.
“What I wanted to say,” Rowan takes my arms again, his grip gentle, not tight or demanding; it’s as if his fingers, sliding slowly over my skin, are just asking me to listen. “I just don’t know how I can be so involved. You are my client. I have always maintained a strictly professional relationship with my clients, but with you… With you, I have lost from day one.”
“What are you trying to tell me?”
