Free Akira Tong for Christmas by Azure Boone Page A

wrong? “What?” I whispered.
    He rolled his eyes and stood me up. “Nothing.”
    “Fine. You stink, and I hate you. There, is that better? Jeez.”
    “Can you get undressed?”
    I thought a moment, pursing my lips. “Not really sure.” I pulled my arms out of my sleeves while Akira averted his gaze to the floor. I managed to get the sweater over my head. “So far, so good. The pants may be another issue.”
    The second I began working them over my hips, a slight pain shot through my tailbone. I held my breath, and his gaze snapped up. And riveted on my breasts.
    Oh God, did he like what he saw? I’d worn the red-lace bra—nearly sheer—with matching panties. I swallowed, not moving, knowing he could see my large nipples. My sister spent several years assuring me guys loved my kind of nipples. Plump and juicy was what they called them. If she wasn’t lying.
    He dropped to his knees and helped me work the pants down. I winced a little when he lifted my legs out of them. The medicine and wine had kicked in—I could tell—but the fear of pain had me tense.
    He looked up at me, the concern on his face soon melting with…oh yes, desire. His gaze raked over me, stopping at my red panties. He latched his fingers on to the sides and began to lower them. I watched his expression. His lips were parted, and his eyes were closed. My God, how sweet. Such discipline and respect.
    In that instant I realized I didn’t just want him—I needed him. Needed him to be mine. My heart raced. I didn’t just want to have sex with him. I wanted to be with him, hold him, comfort him, make him smile and laugh.
    The man clearly had some amazing scruples he didn’t want to violate. Was it that other woman? I didn’t want him to do anything that would bring him guilt. “There’s a towel behind you.” He quickly handed it to me without peeking. I wrapped up in it. “I’m decent.” He let out a breath of relief. Disappointment crashed through me. “I can do this. You are obviously not comfortable with it.” I swooned a little, and he caught me with his chest.
    “Maybe a bath isn’t such a good idea,” he murmured.
    “Lay with me? I’m tired.”
    He lifted me in his arms, and I laid my head on his shoulder. I wished I could stay there, just like that. He set me on the bed and pulled the covers down, then lifted me again and placed me exactly in the middle.
    I raised an arm toward him. He lay next to me, but I needed his naked torso. I pulled up the hem of his shirt, signaling to him I wanted it off.
    “I can’t.”
    I froze. “Why?”
    “Because…I can’t control myself with you.”
    I shook my head. “So don’t.”
    He got up on an elbow and looked down at me. He slid his finger along my face, making my heart ache with need. And then, right in the middle of his contemplation, I saw him make the decision. His fingers gently captured my jaw, and he leaned in. His breath warmed my mouth as he lingered inches away. He had to be the one to do this. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
    He jerked away and sat on the edge of the bed with his back to me.
    Pain stabbed my heart like an electric cattle prod. I shot out of the bed and cried out, forgetting my injury. He spun around and hurried to help me. “Get. Away. From me.” I could hardly believe how much his rejection hurt.
    “Sarah.”
    I growled my way to my feet. He stood before me and held my shoulders. “You don’t get it.”
    “I get it. I fucking get it, okay? You don’t want me. You’ve been trying to tell me this—” A sob cut off my words.
    He pulled me to him, and his lips were on mine.
    I broke away. “No! I don’t want your fucking pity, you bastard. Don’t put your lips on me. Don’t fucking put your lips on me,” I screamed at him.
    He captured my face and held tight. “My father…wants me to marry. For money. I don’t even like her. It wasn’t enough that I give up my life for him. Now I have to give up my heart.” I froze.