She bit into her lower lip.
‘Or something else?’
Her eyes lifted to his, her expression uncertain.
For God’s sake, why was she tormenting him like this? All she had to do was ask him to make love to her, and he would, all day and all night, until this damned beast of need was finally slayed, satiated. It was the only way to end this.
‘Damn it, Annie, why are you here, naked?’
‘I’m not naked,’ she said, her voice a husk, in the early morning. ‘And I thought it was just what we did here.’
He arched a brow. ‘Does it offend you?’
He gestured to his chest, inviting her to look. She did. Her gaze dropped lower, her tongue darting out and licking her lower lip, so his cock jerked and his gut tightened.
Slowly, she shook her head, and then lifted a trembling hand, slowly, pressing it to his chest. ‘I guess I just got sick of looking.’
He sucked in a sharp breath. Her touch was so tentative, so innocent, and yet it was also the most erotic thing he’d ever known.
‘How exactly are you not naked?’ he asked, the words bitten out, gruff and deep.
Her hand dropped from his chest, to lace with his fingers, which she pulled towards her hip, so he felt the elastic of her thong and bit back another curse.
‘That seems tokenistic, at best.’
Her lips flicked in a small smile—a genuine smile, so for a second, he was back in the past, and she was just Annie. His Annie.
Until she wasn’t. Until she was taken away from him—until she walked away from him, rather than standing up to her rich, entitled parents. She was nothing like he’d thought, because the Annie he’d held up on a pedestal was not the kind of woman to end it with a guy just because her parents told her to.
The memory was a timely reminder of who she was—and why this had to happen on his terms. He wouldn’t let himself feel anything for her again. He wouldn’t let her get under his defenses.
‘Why did you come out here?’ he said again.
‘I told you—’
‘No, Annie.’ He pulled his hand back, glad for the shift in his feelings, glad for the way the past had reared its head at just the right moment, to reinforce why he had to keep his cool. ‘You cannot get out of it that easily. If you want to touch, touch. But if you want me to fuck you, you’re going to have to ask.’
She gasped, the hurt on her features something he wished he didn’t see, and didn’t care about, but the past was a complex beast, and tangled up in his anger and disappointment with her was the warmth he’d once held, too. The understanding of her—more of an understanding than he’d probably ever allowed himself to feel for another person.
‘Why are you like this?’ she asked, her features still pinched.
‘Why do you think?’
‘Your upbringing? Did someone hurt you? I don’t know, Theo. You were always a closed book about your past—’
‘My past? Annie, don’t be obtuse. If you’re wondering why I’m like this, then look in a goddamned mirror.’
Another gasp, this time, with her hand lifting to cover her lips. ‘Don’t say that.’
‘I thought we agreed to be honest.’
She flinched.
‘You were the first person in my life I ever really cared about,’ he said, almost conversationally, aware that the words had washed through him so often they’d lost their power to cut him now.
‘What about the Georgiadeses?’
‘I liked and respected them, and that was mutual. I did not care for them like I did you. And you discarded me without a backwards glance, because your parents asked you to.’