Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 120240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
He kisses like he fights—with precision, control, and devastating effectiveness. His teeth catch my lower lip, and I make a sound I’ve never made before, something between a gasp and a whimper.
He pulls back immediately. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” I grab his shirt and pull him back. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
The please does something to him. I feel it in the way his body goes taut, the way his breathing gets rougher.
“You’re going to kill me,” he mutters against my mouth. “Absolutely fucking kill me.”
His hand slides from my hair down my neck, my shoulder, coming to rest on my waist. Even through the fabric of my dress, I can feel the heat of his palm, the slight pressure of his fingers.
I want those hands everywhere.
The thought should embarrass me. Instead, it makes me arch into him, pressing closer.
He groans. “We need to stop.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re in a driveway. Because if we don’t stop now, I’m going to forget every good intention I have.” He pulls back enough to look at me, and his eyes are nearly black with desire. “I’ll put you in the back of this car and make you come apart until you can’t remember your own name.”
The image that creates—his hands, his mouth, the leather seats—makes my knees actually weak. My pulse flutters.
“And that would be bad because…?” My voice comes out breathy, barely recognizable.
He laughs, but it sounds pained. “Because you deserve better than a quick fuck in a car, lass. We may have met when we were teens, but we don’t have to act like them.”
Now I’m the one giggling through my disappointment.
“You deserve…” He cups my face again, gentle despite the hunger in his eyes. “You deserve everything. Slow, sweet, proper. Not me losing control like some teenager.”
“What if I don’t want slow and sweet?”
His eyes close. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. You really are trying to kill me.”
“I’m being honest.”
“I know.” He opens his eyes. “And that’s exactly the problem. Because when you’re honest like that, when you look at me like you’re looking at me right now, all I want to do is give you everything you’re asking for.”
“So give it to me.”
“Not tonight.” His thumb brushes across my cheek. “Tonight, we’re going to get you into comfortable clothes, eat some curry, and I’m going to learn everything about you that I should have learned years ago, instead of being a cruel bastard.”
“And then?”
“And then, when the time’s right, I’m going to make good on every single thing I’ve promised you tonight.”
I shiver.
“Cold?” he asks.
“No.”
“Then why are you trembling?”
Because you’re looking at me like you want to devour me. Because I can still feel where your hands were. Because I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you right now, and I don’t know what to do with that.
“Just excited,” I manage. “About the curry.”
He laughs, and the tension breaks just enough. “About the curry. Right.”
But he doesn’t move away. His hand stays on my face, his body still close enough that I can feel the heat of him.
“For the record,” he says quietly, “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you right now.”
My breath catches. “Really?”
“Really.” He leans in, presses one more soft kiss to my lips. “And that terrifies me almost as much as it excites me.”
“Why does it terrify you?”
“Because wanting someone this much gives them power over you. And in my world, that’s dangerous.”
I reach up, covering his hand with mine. “I won’t hurt you.” I don’t want to. Only cruel people desire pain for others, and I’m not cruel.
My phone buzzes with a text, loud and insistent. I watch his eyes flick to it then back to me again.
“It’s nothing,” I whisper. If I tell him it’s Bridget, he might start to ask questions. And if he knows something’s wrong…
Something shifts in his expression, leaning into vulnerability I’ve never seen before.
He nods slowly, then steps back, breaking the contact between us.
The loss of his warmth makes me want to pull him back.
“Come on,” he says, his voice still rough. “Let’s get those clothes before I change my mind about being good.”
He offers me his hand, and I take it, letting him lead me toward the house.
But I can still feel the imprint of his body against mine. Can still taste him on my lips.
And I absolutely know that this is just the beginning.
Whatever’s building between us isn’t going to stay controlled for long.
And I can’t wait for it to break.
Chapter Eighteen
Cavin
It’s been two days since that kiss, and I’ve replayed it in my head approximately eight thousand times. The soft sounds she made. The way she grabbed my shirt like she needed something to hold onto.
I’m sitting in my office at The Craic, supposedly reviewing the quarterly reports, but the numbers blur together. All I can see is her face, flushed and wanting, telling me she knows exactly what she’s doing.