"It isn't just you." He got up and moved around the desk to her side. He reached out and did what he'd been wanting to do for days. Very gently, he took her hand.
And it felt so damn right. So goddamn right.
"It isn't just you," he repeated. "I feel it, too. Hell, I can taste it. I'm aware of everything about you, from the scent of your shampoo to the rhythm of your breathing. All I can think about is kissing you."
"Dallas--" Her voice came out ragged.
"But we can't." He forced the words out, because it was either do that or pull her into his arms. "We both know why we can't."
"I know," she said, and he knew she meant their family and the idiotic law that turned anything sexual between them into a goddamn crime. But there was more to it than that. Because even if there was no taboo, she still deserved a hell of a lot more than a man like him.
"But the thing is--" She bit her plump lower lip. "The thing is that I don't want to just walk away. Not without trying to be friends. But I can't handle this. We have to make it stop. This tension. This wanting."
He cocked his head, a little bit amused and a little bit intrigued. "What exactly do you suggest?"
Her head was tilted so that she was looking more at the floor than at him. "I want you to fuck me," she said softly. Except that couldn't be what she said.
Then she lifted her head and he saw the boldness in her eyes. And the heat. "We need to fuck each other out of our systems."
--
I want you to fuck me.
Dallas clenched the steering wheel tighter as he flew up the 9A highway on his way to Westchester. It was still early enough that the road wasn't clogged with rush hour traffic, and his Spyder had more than enough zip to let him weave in and out of the scattered cars that blocked his path.
We need to fuck each other out of our systems.
Christ, she'd really said that. She really wanted it.
Hell, so did he.
Need curled through him, and he pressed on the accelerator, jacking the car up by another ten miles per hour, as if he could out-race this persistent craving. He couldn't, of course. It would dog him until he had Jane, which meant that it would dog him forever.
He thought of how she'd looked when he'd said no.
"Dallas, I know it sounds crazy, but--"
"If that's the only way we can get past this and be friends, then I guess we won't be friends."
She'd flinched, as if he'd slapped her. Hell, in a way he supposed he had.
"You don't mean that." Her voice was low. Urgent. "You know I'm right."
At that, he did take a step toward her. "So what if you are? It's still not happening. I'm not a man you want in your bed. You may think you do, but you don't. I promise you that."
She'd lifted her chin and looked at him with fire in her eyes. "Because you like it rough? Because you like it dirty? Don't look so shocked, brother. I have ears. And most of the time, you're the best gossip in town."
"Like it? That's the way I need it." He'd grabbed her shoulders. "And I am not--do you hear me?--not dragging you down with me."
"Dallas--"
He'd heard the break in her voice and wondered if maybe he'd gotten through to her.
"Just go," he'd said. "Just turn around, walk out the door, and go."
He ran the scene over and over in his head, wishing each time that the ending was different. But like every other woman in his life, she'd obeyed.
Unlike every other woman, she'd walked away.