I See London 1 (28 page)

“Don’t look at me like that and think I’m not going to kiss you.”

I barely had a chance to register his words before his mouth descended on mine. With each kiss, bite, lick, he devoured me. There was nothing patient in this kiss, nothing sweet. It was nothing like our kiss on the steps. This kiss was a mass of desire and frustration. It wasn’t a question. He wanted. He took.

My knees felt weak as Samir plundered my mouth. The only thing I could do was hold on. My hands traveled up his body, running over his chest, moving up to lace around his neck. Without realizing it, I pulled him closer to me. I wanted him all over me, inside me. I wanted everything.

Samir broke away first, his chest rising and falling in heavy pants. He looked deliciously rumpled. “Why are you with that guy?” Anger blazed in his eyes—anger and something else, something that might have been hurt.

I stared at him, my mind struggling to keep up. “What?”

“The British guy,” Samir ground out.

Oh.

“Why, Maggie?”

“Why do you care?” The words just slipped out, driven by frustration and the need to know, once and for all, where I stood with him.

“You know why.”

My eyes narrowed. “Do I? Why do you care that I’m with Hugh? Why?”

He raked a hand through his hair. Frustration filled his tone. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know. I just do.”

I waited for him to say something, waited for him to tell me he had feelings for me. But instead he just stared at me, confusion flickering across his face.

“I see you.”

I couldn’t tear my gaze away.

“I see you,” Samir repeated. “I see you, exactly as you are. Can you say the same about him? Can you say that about yourself?” His voice was raw, hypnotizing me with each word. “Do you know what it’s like watching you make a mistake by hanging out with some guy you clearly don’t fit with? Do you know what it was like watching you walk away with him that night? Imagining you fucking him? Imagining him touching you? Do you know what these past few months have been like?”

I did know. It was the same feeling I suffered every time I saw him out with another girl.

“I had to talk to Fleur. I’ve been pumping her for information for months. Trying to find out if you were having sex with him or not.”

I stared at him incredulously.
Was he insane?
I knew exactly what it was like—he had a revolving line of bimbos on his arm. Who was he to push me like this? What did he know about anything? About how I felt inside?

He was a magnet I couldn’t escape from. And he was a chance I couldn’t take.

I turned away from him. My heart pounded in my chest. All this time, all he did was jump from one girl to the next. He was so casual about things; he always treated me as though we were just having fun. How dare he push me on this? How dare he make me doubt things with Hugh? Hugh didn’t make me crazy. Not like this.

“Do you love him?”

I whirled around. “Why? Does it matter? Give me one reason why I should walk away from Hugh. He’s nice and he’s good to me. He actually makes me feel good about myself. I can breathe around him.” My voice broke. “I can’t breathe around you. You push me and you crowd me and I can’t breathe. I don’t want to be a random hookup. I see you, too. I see you with a different girl every night. I hear the stories. So yes, I want Hugh. I’m happy with Hugh. The only mistake I’ve made is hooking up with you. This ends now. No more kissing. No more strip rummy, no more hooking up. We’re done.”

Samir’s eyes closed for a moment and he staggered backward as if absorbing a blow. Then he turned his back to me and walked away.

Chapter 41

After our trip to Paris, the pace at school picked up considerably. I barely saw my friends. We didn’t have any classes together and we were all so busy with school. Fleur and I were like two ships passing in the night. We talked a bit at night in our room, but otherwise I spent most of my time in the library or hanging out with Noora. I avoided Samir. Somehow—eventually—we managed to be cordial around each other, but we never spoke of that night in Paris. And whatever friendship we’d had seemed to be gone.

Exams were coming, and with them, the stress of final grades. And soon—far too soon, if you asked me—I’d be leaving London. Not just for a few weeks either. For four months.

Four
very long months.

I walked up High Street Ken, heading toward the Tube station. Hugh had invited me over to his place and for the first time since I’d known him, I hadn’t invented an excuse not to go. I wanted things to work between us. Needed them to. And if I didn’t change quickly, I was worried I’d lose him for good.

I lengthened my stride, weaving through the crowds of people. The weather had warmed a bit, and with the changing season came a whole new host of visitors to London. Tourists descended on the city, blocking the sidewalks with their giant umbrellas and massive folding maps. When I bitched about it to Hugh, he laughed and told me I was officially a true Londoner.

I liked the sound of that.

I turned into the station entrance, elbowing my way past a group of American tourists. I walked toward the turnstiles, ready to pull my Oyster card out of my pocket, when I saw Fleur walking in the opposite direction. I opened my mouth to call out her name—

She wasn’t alone.

Costa stood beside her, his arm draped casually around her shoulder. He said something that made Fleur laugh and then he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers. It definitely wasn’t the kind of kiss you would give a friend.

“Excuse me, miss?”

My gaze jerked away from Fleur and Costa, turning to face the man who spoke to me. He was dressed in a business suit, annoyance on his face.

“You’re blocking the entrance.”

My cheeks flamed as I mumbled my apologies. I moved out of the way, my thoughts full of what I had just seen. When I looked back at the stairway, Fleur and Costa were gone.

How could she have kept something like that from me? Were they back together? I had seen him recently at school with his girlfriend, so I didn’t think he was single. I just couldn’t believe Fleur was stupid enough to get involved with him again.

* * *

By the time I got to Hugh’s flat, I’d pushed all thoughts of Fleur from my mind. I leaned against the glass window, staring out onto the city. Hugh lived in a modern building with a doorman and a killer view of the river. This was the part of London I always thought of as “modern London.” Here the buildings were taller, the architecture more contemporary. I liked it, but for me, London would always be a celebration of a time long since passed. I loved the history that flooded the streets, loved the feeling that I was in another era when I walked down my street in Kensington.

“Enjoying the view?”

I turned around, anticipation filling me as Hugh walked toward me. I turned back to face the window. My eyes closed as his arms wrapped around me; his muscular body pressed against me. I was short enough that Hugh could fit my head under his chin, giving me the sensation that my entire body was encased in his.

It was so different from being in Samir’s arms.

Hugh bent his head, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind my ear. He kissed me softly there, his lips leaving goose bumps in their wake. I turned in his arms, leaning up on my tiptoes and pressing a soft kiss to Hugh’s cheek. His hands stroked down my back. Our bodies were locked against each other, his fingers probing, hands stroking. He reached up and tugged at the edge of my shirt, lifting it up over my bra, pulling it over my head. A rush of cold air hit my bare skin.

Hugh’s eyes flared. “You’re so beautiful.” He leaned down, pressing a swift kiss to my neck. My head tilted back, giving him more access to my bare skin. His tongue swept down my neck, his teeth giving little bites along the way. He pulled me closer against his hard body. “Bed,” he murmured, taking my hand and leading me through the flat.

I followed him on shaky legs, a mass of confusion running through my head. Part of it was the enormity of what I was doing—the fact that if this continued, I wouldn’t be a virgin anymore. And part of it, damn him, was the memory of that night in Paris and what hung between Samir and me, lingering, unresolved.

Hugh flicked on a light switch. I blinked. His room was big by London standards, but most of the space was dominated by a large bed covered with black silk sheets.

Hugh guided me over, pressing more kisses on my neck. He pushed me down on the bed, his body following mine, covering me. I could feel every inch of him pressed against me.

I pulled off his shirt, tugging it over his broad shoulders. When he shrugged it off, I gaped at the sight before me.
Holy shit.
I reached out, my fingers stroking the powerful muscles on his stomach. He was beautiful. Hot, sexy and absolutely beautiful. But I couldn’t help but think something was missing, something was off—

He wasn’t leaner; his skin wasn’t the color of burned gold. His body wasn’t the one that haunted my dreams.

“That feels so good.”

I pushed the traitorous thought from my head. “Good.”

Hugh shifted slightly, reaching behind me to unhook my bra. The move was effortless, one-handed. Apparently all that practice came in handy.

I stiffened slightly as he peeled away my bra, exposing my breasts. He hadn’t bothered to turn off the light; my body was completely on display. And I definitely didn’t have a six-pack.

His lips claimed mine in an erotic kiss, his tongue plundering my mouth. His hands raked over my body, stroking my breasts, teasing my nipples. Sensations flooded me.

And suddenly I was back on a street in Paris, standing by the river, Samir’s arms wrapped around me, Samir’s lips on mine. It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over my body. “Wait.” I broke away from Hugh. “I can’t do this.”

Surprise flickered across his handsome face. “Are you serious?”

I reached down, grabbing my bra and shirt. I bunched the fabric in front of my chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t get it. What happened? I thought you were into it.”

“I was. I mean, I am.”

“Then what is it?”

For some horrible reason, I can’t get Samir out of my mind.

“It’s nothing. I’m just tired.” My voice was pleading. “I just thought maybe our first time could be special. I thought I would buy sexy lingerie—”

Hugh groaned.

“I just think having rushed sex on a Tuesday might be a bad idea.” I struggled to sound convincing. “When we do have sex, I want it to be amazing.”

Hugh was silent for a moment. He sighed, moving closer to press a swift kiss on my lips.

“I should go,” I murmured against his mouth.

“Stay.”

I shook my head, pulling away from him. “I can’t. I have class tomorrow morning. I can’t afford to miss it.”

“Are you sure that’s all there is?”

I could hear the frustration in his voice, could see it in his brown eyes. I hated lying to him. But honesty didn’t seem like the best idea either. I settled for evasion. “What do you mean? I told you. It’s just the timing.”

“Every time I try to get you alone, you seem to have some kind of excuse. I just don’t get it. I thought we talked about this. I thought we were on the same page about where we wanted things to go.”

This was not the conversation I wanted to be having. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him. He was seriously hot. But losing my virginity on a random Tuesday evening, this close to finals, seemed like the height of stupidity. I was already chugging caffeine like a lifeline, not to mention the fact that I doubted I’d ever felt less sexy. Funnily enough sleep deprivation, bad food choices and heaps of anxiety did not put me in a sexual mood.

And for some fucking reason I couldn’t forget that night on the bridge.

“It’s not you,” I answered honestly. “I do want to stay. Really. But my grades have been down this year and I can’t afford to lose my focus this close to finals.”

Hugh pulled away from me. “I forget sometimes what it’s like being with a girl who’s still in school,” he responded.

“I’m sorry.”

He waved me off. Gone were the good-natured smiles, the playful tone. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll drive you home.”

I glanced down at my watch. It was after midnight; the Tube had stopped running. “You don’t have to do that. I can get a cab or something,” I protested. The last thing I wanted to be was a pain in the ass. Unfortunately the frustration in his voice seemed to suggest that was exactly how he felt about me.

I’d worked so hard to get him. The real question was—how hard was I willing to work to keep him?

Chapter 42

“How are things going with Hugh?”

I flipped through racks of clothes. We’d decided to take a much-needed study break and do some shopping. We settled on a store that was cheap enough for me to maybe get lucky on the sale rack and nice enough for Fleur not to be embarrassed wearing their clothes.

“I’m not sure. We sort of had a fight the other night.” I hesitated. “Okay, maybe not a fight. But I annoyed him.”

“What happened?”

I turned toward where Fleur was looking at skirts. I hated not being able to tell her the full story. And I desperately needed advice. But there was no way I could bring Samir into this.

“I don’t know really. We were at his flat and he wanted me to stay over.” Her eyes widened. “I wanted to. Honestly. But I’ve just been so tired and stressed lately with exams coming up. It didn’t feel right.”

“That seems to be your problem a lot.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged, pulling a skirt off the rack and holding it up in the air. “It just seems like there have been plenty of opportunities for you guys to have sex and it never happens. Maybe you don’t really want it to.”

Her words hit a bit too close to home.

“What are you saying? You think I’m sabotaging myself or something?”

Fleur frowned at me. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just saying that it seems weird, that’s all. I can kind of see his frustration.”

Great, now even Fleur thought I was crazy. “I want to,” I interjected. “Have you seen him? Obviously I’m attracted to him.”