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He dropped her arm but leaned in so close their noses were almost touching. “Why? Why would you give a flying fuck about some irredeemable criminal? And why do you expect me to buy that?”

“Because I love you, you jackass!”

William narrowed his eyes, sucked in his cheeks, and shook his head. “You don’t. It’s nice of you to say, but you don’t love me.”

“I knew you were arrogant, but it’s pretty extra to tell me how I feel,” Anne shot back.

“If you love someone, you don’t throw them away like garbage, love. And you sure don’t do it more than once.” William walked past her. “How ‘bout I show you the door?”

Now Anne grabbed his wrist and jerked him back. Hard.

“Ow,” he said mockingly. Though, it had hurt a bit.

“I don’t have just myself to think about,” Anne said.

“Are you looking for absolution here? For me to tell you it’s okay to jerk me around like this? Or did we just have sex after the gala because you felt sorry for me?”

“Shut up!”

William laughed. “That’s right. That’s a great way to handle an argument. We’re peak relationship goals right now.”

“I didn’t give you pity sex. I wanted it. I still want it.” Anne squeezed his arm again and stepped closer until he could feel her chest rising and falling. “And I want you, but I don’t know how I can have you. My life isn’t entirely my own to do whatever I want with.”

“Don’t you dare blame this on Evie. She’s purer than either of us will ever be. And you’ll always find an excuse not to do this. If you did love me, you’d find a way to work it out. You’d at least try.” William jerked his hand away and put it on his hip. “And last time, what was your excuse? Your job?”

“Last time was still about…” Anne trailed off.

William raised a brow. “About… what? Who?” His heart began to pound. “About Evie? Were you—?”

William wished he

were the type of man to push away a woman who kissed him to shut him up, but he wasn’t. He could take down a man twice his size, sharp shoot, and survive almost anything, but he apparently wasn’t strong enough to tell Anne Sutton no.

The morning after the gala, William had been so certain that it had been their last time together that now every touch seemed precious. Today very likely was their last time. Afterwards, she would leave him again, maybe with an excuse, maybe not. Either way, he glutted his hands with the feel of her, moving them up and down her body as though he could fill up on the memory of her skin and bank it away for the long stretch without her that surely lay ahead of him.

She fell back against a dusty wall of books, and he unbuttoned her pants and jerked them down. In the seconds between breaking the kiss, unbuttoning his pants, and pressing another fierce kiss to her lips, he could see in her eyes how much she both wanted this and hated herself for having it.

William wished he could make her love herself. He wished he could make her choose happiness instead of endless sacrifice, but he couldn’t control her, and he wouldn’t have been happy if he could. Instead, he would love for her, at least at this moment, and he slipped his fingers into the already slick folds between her legs. She squirmed and then began to rub against him as he worked his magic between her satiny flesh. He bowed his head and took in her scent, kissing her neck and drinking her in like a fine wine. He wanted her ripe and ready before he took her fully, and his fingers were as nimble as ever.

He could feel her as she came, the wetness increasing, the hitch in her breath. His fingers chased along the sides of her lips, triggering a second, and third, orgasm just because he could, and he knew her body so well. Anne would fucking remember him; he would make sure of it.

William felt his eyes stinging as he pushed into her. The feel of her around him, their connection, made his chest swell, and he closed his eyes as he lifted her legs up and fucked her against the bookcase with every drop of passion he had in him. She shuddered again, clinging to his shoulders and moaning loudly. Her staccato cries were his music.

When he came, he held her more tightly against the books. She gasped and pressed kisses along the side of his face. The pleasure rose up and shot through him, and he groaned deep in his chest and let the sound reverberate through the old store.

When it was over, William slumped down to the ground. Anne reached over to one of the unused cloths he’d been using to dust off books and cleared cum away before wriggling back into her panties and falling back on the floor. William sighed, not wanting to be the first one to speak, and jerked his jeans back on.

“Oh,” Anne said softly.

“Are you all right?” William wanted to smack himself for the concern in his voice. Anne would probably always be a vulnerable spot for him.

Anne sat up, holding something in her palm. He leaned forward, his brows raising as he realized what it was, and then took it. It was his damn ring; it’d fallen off and rolled under one of these shelves.

“Bloody fucking hell.”

“Right?”

“If I’d found this a few weeks ago, you’d still be butting your head against the wall on this case,” William said, staring at the ring. It was his alright. He could see the worn spot. He knew how every groove felt. He slipped it back on. “None of this would’ve happened.”

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