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So he stared at the moon. That little sliver. And Henry began to dream of all the fun he’d have…
Once he was set free.
He wondered…had Midas already met Alina? Oh, but he hoped so. He’d gone to such lengths to bring the two of them together.
Chapter Three
Sometimes, you knew something was a mistake, but it just didn’t fucking matter.
In that moment, nothing else mattered to Midas. Nothing but kissing Alina. Tasting her. He’d screwed up this date. Yes, clearly. And kissing her was probably going to screw things up even more.
But why not go down in a blaze of glory? Better to be damned for the things he did than for the things he didn’t do.
Like when I nearly got sent to prison for murders I never committed.
His hands circled her waist as he lifted her up against him. His mouth crashed onto hers, and her lips parted for him. Eagerly, feverishly, she kissed him back. No controlled or cautious kiss from Alina. She kissed him with enough heat to absolutely burn him alive.
Growling, he turned with her in his arms. He kicked the door shut. One hand reached out and flipped the lock, then he pinned her between his body and the wood of the door. He didn’t free her mouth. Couldn’t. He just kissed her deeper. Harder. The moan that rumbled in her throat drove the desire he felt for her even higher.
Her legs wrapped around his hips. Her hands grabbed onto his shoulders as she held him tightly.
He’d wondered what it would be like to kiss her.
Thought it would be good. How could it not be good?
Her tongue slid against his. His whole body shuddered. His eager dick thrust against her.
And he realized this kiss wasn’t good. It was great. It was phenomenal.
And I am lying to her. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck.
He tore his mouth from hers. Lifted his head. Stared down into her eyes—eyes even darker and more turbulent than they’d been before.
If kissing her is this fantastic, I will lose my mind when I fuck her. No, no. He was not doing that. The job was to watch her. Guard her.
Pretend to be interested.
Screw pretending. I am one hundred percent onboard with real interest.
“That was the best kiss of my life,” she whispered.
His chest burned. “Same.” He’d give her as much honesty as he could.
And hope she didn’t hate his guts later.
“So why did you stop?”
“Because I want more than a kiss.” His hands slowly lowered her down until her feet touched the floor again. Then he let her go. “And you’re not ready for that.”
“First date,” she breathed. “No, not ready.” A swallow.
“I want another date.” Was he really continuing this dumbass ruse? But, it didn’t feel like a ruse. He wanted to be with her.
“So do I.”
“Tomorrow night?” It would give him a reason to be close to her again. A perfect excuse. Only it was about more than being an excuse.
