More Than Want You Page 41

I must be fixated on her because I’ve been two and a half excruciating weeks without sex. I could have ended my torture last night with someone else…and I chose not to. What’s wrong with me?

At midnight, I got a call from Milan, a not-quite friend who wanted benefits. I turned her down flat. We’ve exchanged favors not so infrequently over the last two years. The phone call wasn’t unexpected, really. We’re busy professionals with needs. Neither of us has time for a relationship and we both like dirty sex. I’ve never minded scratching her itch in the past. I just didn’t have any enthusiasm for the concept last night.

Keeley shifts, absently brushing her pink strands from her face before settling back into slumber. A foot peeks out from beneath the sheet. Her black toenail polish is chipping. I suspect I’m staring at the reason I had no interest in Milan.

Fuck.

“Sunshine…” I call in hushed tones so I don’t startle her.

“Hmm.” She barely manages to crack her eyes open for a moment before they slide shut again.

Normally, she’s a morning person, but after the long week of exams and the bottle of wine we drank on the lanai last night, I think she’s wiped out. Actually, watching her sleep is kind of cute…up until the point where I want to rip the sheet away from her body and fuck her until she can’t think.

“Time to get up,” I murmur.

“Sleeping in.”

“You’re not. The Ritz spa is expecting you at eight. You’ve got two full days of pampering.”

She cracks one eye open. “Seriously? Why so early?”

I tsk at her. “Poor thing. How dreadful all that massage and therapeutic aromatherapy must be. I know manicures and pedicures are a terrible chore, and who the hell wants a relaxing facial or a seaweed body wrap? I’m totally glad I’ll be with some dude in a suit with whom I share a language barrier all day. That sounds like way more fun than being rubbed on and coddled. So glad I don’t have to endure your torture…”

Keeley grabs the sheet and pulls it up, covering all her goodies before she rolls onto her side and sends me a quelling glare. “I see the early hour hasn’t dimmed your sarcasm.”

“Nothing dims that,” I assure her with a wink. “Now up with you.” I can’t resist smacking her ass.

She shrieks and jumps to her feet, clutching the sheet. “Don’t do that. Get out. I’m naked.”

“Are you?” I act surprised. “I’m not sure I believe you. Maybe you should drop the sheet and prove it.”

Gritting her teeth at me, Keeley gives me a shove. “Go. If I have to be downstairs soon, I need to rush through my yoga and put myself together.”

As much as I’d rather stay and bait her, a glance at my watch tells me I have to go. “I’m meeting a client at a chopper hangar by the airport. We’re touring property all day. I don’t know what time I’ll be back. Probably late, if at all.”

And I hate that so much.

“Oh.” Her disappointment gives me hope. Whether she wants to admit it or not, she likes spending time with me, too. “Okay.”

“It’s the banker we checked out that plantation-style house for last weekend. He just flew in from Hong Kong and only has two days to find a place. I have to stay until that’s done.”

“Sure.” But she doesn’t sound any more thrilled than before. “Just…I guess keep me posted. Let me know whether I should cook for two tonight.”

“I will.” I risk coming closer. The reality that I won’t see Keeley all day—and maybe all night—isn’t making me a happy camper. “I’d rather be with you. You know that, right?”

She gives me that stunning crooked smile. “I would hope I have more appeal than a stuffy banker or I need this spa appointment way more than I thought.”

I smile back. “Have a good day, sunshine.”

“You, too.”

She doesn’t back away. As I stare at her, breathing isn’t as easy as usual. Sleep has softened her face even more. She looks like a goddess rising from that white sheet, and knowing she’s not wearing anything else… It’s taking everything I have not to call the banker and tell him to screw himself so I can fuck her.

Next thing I know, I’m raising my hand and brushing a stray curl from her face. Her cheek is smooth and warm and delicate. On my next pass, I can’t resist dragging my thumb over her bottom lip. I swallow.

“Maxon?” she breathes.

“Yeah?” Does she want me half as much as I want her?

She doesn’t speak. I see the thoughts turning in her head. Tumult shines in her eyes. She’s questioning something—everything?—but doesn’t make a sound.

“Sunshine, you okay?”

“Do you ever wonder if you’re making the right choice? I mean, in your situation, you could probably just pick up a phone and call Griff’s office and ask him if he wants to end this feud. It might be a huge relief to have your brother back and—” She sighs in exasperation. “Don’t shake your head. It’s possible.”

“It’s not. I’m stubborn, I admit. But Griff is a fucking immovable object. Once he’s made up his mind to cut someone or something from his life, it’s absolute.”

Harlow says he’s changed, but I think she wants to believe that more than it’s actually true. I wish like fuck she was right. Not having my own flesh and blood as a mortal enemy would sure be easier. It would probably make me happier, too. Being friends with him again… Nothing would thrill me more—if it could be like the good old days. But it can’t. I’ve accepted that. Once Keeley knows Griff, she’ll understand, too.

“But that was three years ago,” she argues.

“Three minutes. Three hours. Three centuries. Griff’s resolve will be the same. I know you want to believe the best of people, and it’s one of the things about you I find most attractive. But the man has refused to acknowledge his own son. Jamie is a little boy who did nothing to Griff except be born. My brother has chosen to live without the little guy because he thinks the boy’s mother is a liar. If he can handle every single day without caring about his own kid, I’m pretty sure his brother means even less.”

“But you don’t know that. You could try.” There’s a whine in her voice that surprises me, like she really wants me to see her perspective.

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