James

It was pure torture. James closed his laptop and leaned back in his chair, his eyes on the beauty sleeping on the sofa in his home office.

It was torture, but it was self-inflicted. He could have stayed away. Could have worked late at Reed’s like he had the first night. Like he’d intended to do before. Before he tasted her, before he saw her unravel in pleasure just for him.

How on earth had he thought that was going to make him want her any less?

He was a freaking idiot.

Instead of keeping his distance after what happened, he found himself leaving the work early these last few days. Not wanting to admit even to himself why, he tried making up excuses. He was just being hospitable. What was wrong with that? And so what if he enjoyed having company? It was nice not coming home to an empty house. That was the only reason, he kept telling himself.

It had nothing to with who he was coming home to. Nothing whatsoever, at all. It could have been anyone, any random person, really. It would have been entirely, completely, and exactly that same.

Except, of course, for a few things he couldn’t reason out, no matter how he tried. Like the fact that every time she gave him that sweet smile of hers, his heart skipped a beat, and how he seemed to have a permanent hard-on whenever she was in the proximity, and how he was constantly imagining bending her over whatever piece of furniture was nearby and fucking her so hard, she would never think of another man.

Yes, he was a freaking idiot.

But they both played the part they’d agreed on. Acting as if it never happened. No talking about it, no thinking about it.

Except, he was constantly thinking about it, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, and sometimes, it seemed she was too.

It was in the way she looked at him sometimes, when she didn’t know he noticed.

Or maybe he was just imagining things. Honestly, he didn’t know what to think about anything anymore, least of all her. He’d had such a clear picture of her before. Now, nothing seemed to fit.

I’ve been way off about her, he thought, watching her on the sofa. She’d fallen asleep while reading. Keeping up with her classes, determined not to fall behind.

He smiled to himself. she was mischievous, spirited, playful, but not self-destructive like he used to think.

And God was she beautiful. He could stare at her for hours.

She stirred in her sleep, causing her blanket to slide down her lower half. The long sweater she was wearing had ridden up, revealing her pale pink panties.

Seriously, what did she have against pants?

She shifted again and the blanket slid lower, exposing the angry red mark on her upper thigh. His mark.

God, he hadn’t been able to help himself, even as he swore it was just going to be that one taste.

If she wasn’t a virgin, would he have been able to stop himself from taking her? Did it matter? She was, and he’d told himself that wasn’t his to take. But it hadn’t stopped him from marking her. Because the thought of anyone else taking her was unbearable.

He’d been able to restrain himself for a while, but his resolve had been slipping. The truth was if John hadn’t called he might not have snapped out of it.

All of this was going to end though. John had almost sorted things out. Which meant she would leave soon and he would be alone again.

It had been nice coming home to someone. That hadn’t been a lie.

His life, because of how hard he worked not to be like the rest of his family, had become all work and no play.

It had turned out that way, but he had never wanted to be alone. He remembered buying this house, thinking someday. Someday it wouldn’t be just him, he would share it with someone.

But it had been a long time since he even tried to put himself out there. She’d been right, he was scared. He liked to keep things predictable controllable. Love wasn’t like that.

On the sofa Katherine mumbled something incoherent in her sleep, and began writhing.

Was she having a nightmare?

He couldn’t make out anything she was saying, but she sounded distressed.

He left his desk and came over to her, just as she began trashing.

“Katherine, wake up.” He tried to get through to her. “Katherine.”

Abruptly, she sat up straight. She was shaking, her breathing fast, her eyes panicky.

“It’s all right, calm down,” he told her, holding out his arms.

She looked up at him, and immediately accepted his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, it was just a nightmare,” he said holding her tighter.

“Yeah, I know,” she murmured, “I just wish they’d stop already.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, looking at her. “Has this been happening a lot?”

“Yeah, ever since that night. I think it’s just my mind trying to make sense of it, because I don’t remember what happened,” She said.

“Do you remember the dream?”

“Not really. Just running, being anxious, scarred, feeling like someone was chasing me, but no one was there. I just kept running, trying to get to people, to get to safety, but I couldn’t find anyone.”

John’s words slipped into his mind again, ‘it’s like she wanted to get caught.’ He may have been right.

She sighed. “God, I must have been so out of it.” She shook her head. “I’m so stupid!”

“No you’re not,” he said wrapping his arms around her again. “And you’re safe now.”

“I know,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder.

He sat there for a long time, holding her, running his fingers through her hair. He would have sat there all night if she wanted him to, and almost resisted when she finally pulled away from him.

“Thank you,” she said looking up at him.

Christ, those eyes, those lips. That magnetic pull was there instantly, drawing him in.

“James,” she whispered.

Fuck! He forced his eyes off her and cleared his throat.

“I should probably go to bed,” she said.

“Yeah…um...of course…try to get some sleep.” He released her.

“Yeah,” she said and got off the sofa. As she got to the door, she turned around. “Good night, James.”

“Good night, Kit…Katherine,” he told her.

She smiled at him, and then she was gone.

Groaning, James fell back on the sofa, and stared at the ceiling.

It couldn’t go on like this.

It wasn’t right, and he knew what he had to do.