I was too pissed to play Prince Charming. Fuck that. I’d sooner throw her over my shoulder and lock her away than let that geriatric bastard see her in what should have been meant for me.
Jesus, I didn’t know where these thoughts were coming from.
I was out of control and couldn’t find it in me to care.
She started to answer, and I could tell by the fire in her eyes that I wouldn’t like what she was going to say. I cut her off before she got the chance to say a word. Clutching her wrist, I hauled her around to the alley on the side of the building. It wasn’t particularly private, but it was better than having it out with her on the goddamn sidewalk.
“Is Wellington taking you to the club for dinner tonight?” Just saying the words made my jaw ache with strain.
“Yes.” Defiance. So much bloody defiance.
“You don’t want to be with him, I know it. You came to Bastion for a reason. I didn’t make you—you came on your own. So why the fuck are you still going to see him?”
“I told you, it’s complicated.”
“Nothing’s that fucking complicated.”
“Maybe for you,” she shot back angrily.
My mind raced as I stared her down. I needed to handle this carefully, but my frustration tinged my vision with red, making it hard to see anything but my need to gain her submission.
The lighter was in my hand before I knew it, and I flicked it open.
“Can you swear on your life he’ll never see it?”
“You wouldn’t.” She gaped at me.
“Baby, you have no idea the lengths I’d go to.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed angry blue eyes at me. “Fine, I swear no other man will see the lingerie.”
My smile was slow and lupine as it crept across my face.
“Wrong answer.”
She could try to sass me, but it wouldn’t get her far. The small flame barely kissed the thin black tissue before the hungry flame devoured the paper.
Lina’s jaw plummeted, her eyes going wide with horror. And was that … a touch of … sorrow mixed in?
Shit, I didn’t want to hurt her. I’d been trying to prevent that. Being near Wellington, clothed or not, was dangerous for her in so many ways.
I tossed the smoking bag away from us and caged her in against the stone wall, forcing her watery gaze to mine. “Look at me, Lina.”
Questions and uncertainty spun in her eyes like little blue whirlpools of chaos. “Why, Oran? Why are you doing this?”
Only an inch separated us, and my body screamed with the need to close the gap, so much so that my breath grew choppy and shallow.
“Because you need me to. You need my help, whether you want it or not.”
It should have been a lie—a line I fed to her to win her over—but instead, it rang with sincerity even to my own ears. Where she was concerned, my actions were no longer purely motivated by revenge. I didn’t know what that meant for me and didn’t want to think about it.
I lowered my face to hers, drawn by an invisible force impossible to ignore. My lips ghosted over her skin—her temple, her cheeks, her lips. I never touched her, though. I made sure of that. My body vibrated inside with restraint, but I kept control of myself.
Lina trembled beneath me.
Her lips parted a fraction, and I felt her warmth as her chest lifted and strained closer to mine. We lingered in a timeless moment of suspense, all the while the whisper of my words from the club echoing in the air around us.
Kiss me.
Kiss me.
Kiss me.
Like a needle to a balloon, chaos exploded when Lina launched herself at me, her lips colliding with mine and arms tugging me close.
Thank Christ.
I responded with equal abandon. Pulling her luscious body against mine and devouring her kiss. The sweep of her tongue along mine turned my cock to solid stone. It pressed so hard against my zipper I worried it would leave a permanent mark. My physical reaction to her was undeniable. What amazed me even more was my emotional response. The second her body melted into mine, I went feral with the need to own her. To possess her so thoroughly she forgot any other man had ever existed.
Her submission to the desire pulsing between us was a sign that I was making progress.
It made me ravenous for more.
The small glimpse of what it would be like to have her for myself had my world tilting on its axis. The breathless moan that snuck past her lips. The tug of her fingers in my hair. The nip of her teeth on my bottom lip.
How could kissing anyone else ever compare to this?
It was impossible.
She’d decimated my prior standards and permanently altered my perceptions. She’d marked me in a way that couldn’t be seen, but I knew it was there, and I’d be damned if I didn’t find a way to return the favor.
I hated how much I wanted her.
Tabatha is a New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author, best known for her sexy adult romance Little Black Book.
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