The only people with keys were Sofia, me, Steven… and Joe.
He let himself in. His searing gaze found me at once.
A potent silence infused the room.
Joe looked the worse for wear, sleep-deprived, with no reserve of patience left. He was big and brooding and surly… and he was all mine.
The sound of my heartbeat filled my head with ragged music.
“Ryan called me.” Joe’s voice was like gravel in a blender.
The studio was quiet. Everyone listened avidly, making not even the slightest pretense at minding their own business. Even Coco had climbed to the top of the sofa back to watch us with prurient interest.
“Did he tell you —” I began.
“Yes.” It was clear that Joe didn’t give a damn about who was there or what they saw. His focus was riveted exclusively on me. His color had heightened, and his jaw was hard, and despite his obvious effort at control, I could tell he was on a hair trigger.
I had to get everyone out of the studio. Fast.
“Let me clear a couple of things out of the way,” I said distractedly, “and then we can talk.”
“I don’t want to talk.” Joe moved toward me and paused as I stepped back instinctively. “In thirty seconds,” he warned, “you’re mine. You’ll want to be upstairs when it happens.” He glanced at his watch.
“Joe…” I shook my head with an agitated laugh. “Come on, you can’t just —”
“Twenty-five.”
Shit. He wasn’t kidding.
I cast a wild glance at Ree-Ann and Val, who were having the time of their lives. “You can go home now,” I told them curtly. “Good work, everyone. Be back bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“I’m going to stay and keep working until six,” Ree-Ann said virtuously.
“I’ll help,” Val chimed in.
Tank shook his head and sent me one of his rare grins. “I’ll kick ’em out, Avery.”
Steven picked up his keys. “Let’s go to dinner,” he suggested to Sofia in a casual tone, as if nothing untoward were happening. As if I weren’t just about to be ravished in the living room.
“Eighteen seconds,” Joe said.
Outraged and giddy, I rushed to the stairs in a panic. “Joe, this is ridiculous —”
“Fifteen.” He began to follow me at a measured pace. Feeling like a hunted creature, I scrambled up the steps, which seemed to have turned into an escalator.
By the time I reached my room, Joe had caught up to me. I ran inside and turned to face him as he closed the door. He tensed in readiness to catch me, no matter which direction I bolted. But then I saw the shadows beneath his eyes, and the flush beneath his tan, and my heart ached. I headed straight for him.
His hard arms closed around me. His mouth took mine, and he growled softly in what could have been pleasure or agony. For a few minutes there was nothing but darkness and sensation, those deep kisses demolishing every thought. I was never quite certain how we ended up on the bed. We rolled across the mattress fully clothed, grappling and kissing in a fury, breaking apart only when the need for oxygen was imperative. Joe kissed my neck and tugged at my shirt, more aggressive than he’d ever been before, until I heard threads snapping and felt a button pop off.
With a shaky laugh, I put my hands on either side of his face. “Joe. Take it easy. Hey —”
He kissed me again, shivering with the effort of holding back. I felt the hot, ready pressure of him against me, and I wanted him so badly that a moan rose in my throat. But there were things that needed to be said.
“I’m choosing the life I want,” I managed to tell him. “There’s no obligation for you. I’m staying because this is my home and I can make my own dreams come true right here, with my sister and my friends and employees and my dog, and all the things I —”
“What about me? Was I a part of your decision?”
“Well…”
He frowned, his gaze raking over me as I hesitated.
“Joe, what I’m trying to say is… I don’t expect a commitment from you because of this. I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way. It may be years before we figure out how we feel about each other, so —”
He smothered my words with his mouth, kissing me until I was drunk on the taste and feel of him. After a long time, his head lifted. “You know right now,” he whispered, staring at me with those midnight eyes. Tender amusement lurked in the corners of his mouth. This was the Joe I was accustomed to, the one who loved to tease me without mercy. “And you’re going to tell me.”
My heart began to thump, not in a good way. I wasn’t sure I could do what he wanted. “Later.”
“Now.” He rested more of his weight on me, as if he were settling in for a prolonged siege.
I abandoned all pride. “Joe, please, please don’t make me —”
“Say it,” he murmured. “Or in about ten minutes you’ll be screaming it with me inside you.”
“Jesus.” I squirmed and fidgeted. “You are the most —”
“Tell me,” he insisted.
“Why do I have to be the first?”
Joe held me with his relentless gaze. “Because I want you to.”
Realizing there would be no compromise, I began to wheeze as if I’d just run a marathon. Somehow I got out the words in one fraught breath.
To my outrage, Joe began to laugh softly. “Honey… you say it like you’re confessing to a crime.”