Holding On

ᴛᴡᴏ

"I bet you've already had your fill." I start with too calm a posture not to appear menacing. "But the lady's with me. I don't tolerate men like you and I swear nobody will hold me responsible for my actions"

The man looks at Em as if for confirmation, and to lend credence to my claim, I place my hand on Emma's waist and pull her to my body, earning a gasp of surprise which soon turns into a smile.

The other man shoots a bitter glance but turns to leave. He disappears into the dancers, probably seeking his next prey.

With no intention of facing Emma's questioning eyes, I turn to leave. Before I can, her petite hands hold mine and pull me back into place, instantly disarming me with her sultry gaze. Then her fingers intertwine at the back of my head, blocking my escape.

She opens her mouth to speak but I cut her short. "A simple thank you is enough" I hesitantly place my hands on her slim waist, tempted to slide them down to her beautiful curves.

"Thought I needed no help," she says as she aligns our bodies more closely than she did with the previous guy, and we ease into a rhythm of our own, the live band forgotten.

"That's kinda masochistic." I point out, my body reacting to her warmth, instantly hardening me in a scalding rush of need.

"That's one hell of an exaggeration." Her lashes bats at me in annoyance. "I thought he would relent after some resistance. It's only a pity that you arrived. Otherwise, I would've introduced my knees to his groin.”

I wince at the image.

"Or maybe the problem is that he wasn't the right guy entitled to such a privilege." she drawls, her green eyes gazing into mine.

I hold her hand up and spin her around, pulling her into an embrace. then she maneuvers herself out of my embrace, her fingers once again interlocking at the back of my neck.

"So who would've been the perfect guy?" I questions.

"You" she replies with no hesitation whatsoever.

I grit my teeth, tempted to throw back all the horrible things she'd told me two years ago in her face.

"What?" she enquires, licking her lips in an intimate caress that only bolsters my erection. "Such a coward!"

I smile, aware of her daring game.  "Maybe I'm a coward"

Emma tickles the atmosphere with her sexy laughter. "Where's that risk taker I used to know?" she looks at me with expectation. "What can I do to change your mind about modeling for my collection?”

I huff, frustrated that she isn't about to sabotage whatever courage I mustered to dance with her. "Absolutely nothing"

My body yearns for even more of the warmth she produces with every slow rhythmic slide of her body along the length of mine.

Emma studies me intently. “Why do I feel like there's something I'm not being told?”

Her eyes are intense, searching, as if they can see everything I'm hiding.  My chest squeezes tight, her words hitting me square in the guts.

Before she can delve further into my eyes and find out my secret, I let go of her waist, pull her arms from around my neck, and storm my way through the dancers.

I don't stop until I'm outside the pub. I didn't even tell Kevin I was leaving, but I don't want to spend another minute around Emma. She's fucking driving me crazy.

I don't get inside my car once I get to it. Instead, I place my hands on the roof of it and stand there for some time, taking deep breaths.

“Zain.” Emma's voice comes right behind me.

Startled, I spin around and glare at her. "Why the fuck won't you take no for an answer?" I almost shout. “I'm not the only fucking model in LA.”

“I know that.” She walks gently towards me. “But I don't want any of them.”

Without hesitation, she reaches out her hand and places it on my chest, right where my heart is supposed to be.

Slowly, her gaze meets mine. "I want you."

Grabbing her hand, I yank it from my chest, gripping her wrist in a chokehold. "You temptress!"

Before she can utter a comeback, I spin her around, slamming her back against the door, and shove my hand into her hair. Then I slam my lips on hers.

My unexpected action earns a startled breath from her as my lips demand all of hers, sucking hers with intense ferocity encompassing all the desire I feel. Her mouth parts for me, and I take the opportunity to shove my tongue in.

Our tongues tangle, her hands fondling my arm muscles. I pour every bit of resentment into her mouth, feeling an inexplicable mingle of anger and the need to dominate her.

If we were in a room, I would be stripping her and making her mine right now. We kiss for what feels like an eternity until my lips are aching. We finally break free when both of us are running out of breath.

We stare at each other for what feels like hours, each panting to recover from the ferocity of our kiss.

Though she looks stunned, her uncertainty isn't satisfactory so I push my advantage to instigate more.

"You want me to be the model for your collection, don't you?" I ask. she nods. "Spend the weekend with me. I guarantee that I'll accept your offer, but not without one condition: we'll have to finish what we have started here. And I promise you it's going to be about more than just kissing. Are you in?"

I scan her face, chiding myself for making that offer. It's just an attempt to break her resolve, to get her to finally leave me the hell alone, but this woman is so unpredictable you never know what to expect.

Counter to my fears, however, she shakes her head, seemingly still dazed from what transpired between us. Then she whimpers, "No"

"I thought so too.” I can barely hide my relief as I step away from her. “Now please leave me the fuck alone.”

Issuing one last disdainful look at her, I walk around my car and get into the driver's seat. Turning the ignition, I drive off without a word more.

I've seemingly gotten her to back off, so what is this bitter taste in my mouth?

******

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