The Collector | 18+

【27】A Massive Clusterf*ck

Ulrik

Her eyes darted to me, doubt and confusion veiling the darkness of her irises. The words had flown out of my lips before I could hold them back. "Don't say things like that," she said with authority. "Not when your treatment of me has been so unexceptional."

Would her bluntness ever stop getting to me like it did? It was refreshing to be around her, to witness her disarming honesty. She didn't hesitate to voice her true opinion, to admit things others would never voice, to open her thoughts to me. Her strong-mindedness was commendable, and it never failed to reach me hard. She was the kind of person who gave herself entirely, who didn't hold back, who didn't shy away from what she wanted. This made her fearless in my eyes, more courageous than so many others.

If I claimed her—or rather, if I won her over—she'd be a wild ride from start to finish. And this was a ride I was eager to experience, despite knowing better.

She cleared her throat, making me realize I'd done nothing but stare at her for a few seconds, so I shook myself out of my thoughts.

Part of me despised the fact that my actions might have made a dent in her confidence and self-worth. This woman ought to know how unbelievably alluring and splendid she was.

"The way I acted in New York isn't reflective of my appreciation of you," I impulsively declared. My words unsettled her for an instant, but she swiftly gathered herself.

"I'm a firm believer of actions over words, Mr. Westergaard. And your actions have been loud and clear."

The way she looked at me was defying, daring, even. The fire that flickered within her was as scorching as ever, its wild flames dancing right behind her eyes. I craved its burn like one might seek an adrenaline spike, like an addict needed their fix. I wanted to be burned by her intensity, to experience the heat of her temperament.

My feet brought me to her without the approval or command of my brain, my body weaker than my mind. With each step I took forward, she took one back. The confidence on her face was replaced by uncertainty again. She jumped slightly when she bumped into the low shelving units in the center of the room, and her eyes rushed to mine, trying to understand what I had in mind. Hell, I didn't even know myself...

Once I was inches away from her perfect shape and face, I bent forward slightly, which prompted her to lean back. Almost trembling, she looked up at me, her eyelashes fluttering with confusion, her plump lips parting to take in a quick gasp. Caged between me and the counter in her lower back, she didn't know what to do, where to go. But we both knew she wouldn't move one inch if she could. This was exactly where she belonged, where she wanted to be.

Her desire to oppose me and remain strong was still there, but, just like my intentions to stay away from her, it was battling with the intense attraction we'd had from the start.

"Miss Connelly, trust that if I were a less disciplined man, my actions would leave no doubt about my appreciation of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her voice was breathy, and her skin was flushed. She was smart enough to know exactly what I meant, so I didn't bother replying.

Instead, I allowed my hand to reach for the curve of her hip, gliding softly over the thick fabric that covered it. I lowered to whisper the rest in her ear, as if it would make any of this acceptable; as if it was any better than admitting it with my full voice.

The scent of her invaded my nostrils, making me lose a little more of myself. It was both flowery and fruity, and my mind conjured the image of her rolling naked in orange blossoms, her olive skin looking so tanned against the white petals.