Dear Mister Summers

twenty four

"I want you, Andin. Damn."

She heard the hoarse sound he made. He pulled her head back and lowered his own, their mouths clinging, filled with a driving physical need that beat through her veins like fire, turning her body into helpless fluidity.

Sebastian held her body between his roving hands and she made no effort to stop him, shuddering with pleasure under the kiss which seemed to last endlessly, as though in itself it were an act of possession.

And that was when she realized in the distant recess of her mind that she was in love with him. That she had always been. She had always been more aware of his presence in a room than she had dared admit. He had gradually filled every corner of her heart without her either being able to stop it or admit it. Her driving need to give herself to him, to throw away years of firm principle, was the ultimate expression of a love which, like an unwanted weed, had thrived on stony soil, in spite of her constant attempts to unroot it, deny it, drive it away. Now in the miracle of desire, it flowered, and she stood speechless before that splendor, recognizing at last that the powerful unwanted plant was love itself.

Reluctantly Sebastian lifted his mouth, looking at her with eyes that moved over her hungrily. "I swear I will not hurt you, Andin," he said, his voice thick. "You drive me mad. For years you have been under my skin, tormenting me. I have always wanted to make love to you. I have always been but you had been too important to lose."

"Tell me you love me, Tian," she whispered eagerly, her eyes glazed with passion.

He was still for a moment. A frown twisted his face. "Don't use words like that. They will only confuse the issue. Love is a word people use to describe their sexual needs. It is the pretty wrapping women prefer. I want us to be honest." He pushed the hair from her forehead and caressed her face. "I'm a man and I want you. It is as simple as that."

A chill sensation feathered her skin. She stared at him, her eyes cooling. "If so, then any woman would do."

"No," he said harshly, his baby blues flickering over the slender body he had just caressed with such passion. "It has to be you."

"Why?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Look, I've never been celibate. If I went without sex for years, I would have gone blind by now. And I have never hidden my affairs from you. Working for me for nearly four years, you must have known or at least grasp what was going on in my personal life."

You mean your sex life, said Andin to herself, yeah, I know all the beautiful females that walked into his office with desire pooling in their eyes.

"But for a long time now I have not been able to want anyone else. I have not slept with anyone for weeks."

Andin felt a sharp stab of triumph and joy at the admission. "Not even London Starr or Elsa Turner?" she asked curiously.

He shook his head. "For London, I have tried. I have told myself that I could not possibly go after you so whatever need I have, I should get it from London." Andin was about to say something but he held out his hand and put one finger on her lips. "And no, before you start blaming me and accusing me of using her, you should know that she used me as well. They get publications, and build more connections in the industry. And what's more, they knew fully well what and how the relationship would be. They knew that it was not something serious or long-lasting and they moved on quickly to the next athlete or models or actors. As for Elsa? I have told you, there has been no one. Yes, I have taken girls out, danced with them, and even taken them to my place. But I could not, for the love of everything good, raise a flicker of desire. You came between me and every damned one of them." Jaggedly he said, "Honestly, sometimes I almost hated you for what you were doing to me. You have no idea how many times in the office I had to fight down a need to touch you. Every time you came near me I could think of nothing else."