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“Play out? As in, what, you want to keep fucking me until the chemistry is all but gone? That’s all I am to you, isn’t it? Something you want out of your system. Like a splinter.”

“Splinter?” He pursed his lips. “Yeah, I guess you’re like a splinter. Under my skin. Hard to remove. The more I try to draw you out, the deeper you seem to go.”

Bree swallowed, cursing inwardly as those words snuck through her defenses and burrowed deep inside her. “Then why ask for more?”

“I’ve decided I like having you under my skin. You feel good there. You always have.” He smoothed his thumb over her jawline—the gentle touch was so much at odds with the barely restrained violence that was coiled in his muscles. “Maybe this thing we have will go somewhere, maybe it won’t. We’ll find out. Won’t we, hmm?”

She rubbed at her temple. “Look, I’m not sure if—”

“Don’t fight this, Bree,” he whispered, breezing his thumb up and down the column of her throat. “There’s no point.”

“I need some time to think about it. Some space.”

A glitter of amusement crept into his eyes. “Oh, you do?” His voice was soft, quiet … and rang with pity. As if she was an idiot that he couldn’t but feel sorry for.

“Yeah, I do,” she clipped.

His eyes smiling, he rubbed his nose against hers. “Baby girl, if you wanted a guy you could manage, you should have picked one of your own kind. You didn’t; that was your mistake. Now you need to learn to deal with me.”

“Wait a—”

“I tried keeping my distance from you. It didn’t work. It was never going to work. I don’t see the point in trying it again. I don’t want to waste more time. That’s all I was doing, Bree—wasting time out of my life and yours. I’m done with that. All we can do is give this a shot. It’s all any couple can do. Can you look me in the eye and honestly tell me you don’t want to?”

She chewed on the inside of her cheek. It wouldn’t be so hard to agree to give this a try if he didn’t have the power to hurt her. If she took a chance on him, if it ended badly, she’d be a mess. But if she didn’t take a chance, if she walked away out of fear, she’d forever regret it.

Was there really any harm in taking that chance? If it didn’t work, she could just leave as planned. She could start a new life elsewhere, free of him and any memories of him. That sounded better than walking through life, always wondering what could have been.

“Stop hesitating, Bree. Just agree to give it a shot.”

She licked her lower lip. “All right, we’ll go with the flow and see what happens. But quick warning: if you ever again creep out of my bedroom in the middle of the night like I’m just some girl you met in a bar, you’ll be doing it with broken kneecaps and at least one dislocated femur. That understood?”

There was a brief gleam of something in those dark eyes. “It’s understood.”

He took her mouth. Sipped. Licked. Delved. Turned her knees to rubber and made her crave more. But it wasn’t until much later, after he’d walked her home and then eaten dinner at her house, that he took her to bed and gave her more.

He slept beside her all night long.

CHAPTER NINE

Sipping coffee at the kitchen island the next morning, Bree watched as Alex snatched yet another Danish pastry from the cupboard. There was no denying that wolverines had a formidable appetite. He’d already eaten a stack of pancakes … and tried to steal some of hers. In too good a mood to claw at him, she’d simply slapped his hand.

Well, waking to the feel of a talented tongue fluttering between her folds was bound to put any woman in a good mood, wasn’t it? Add in that Alex ate her pussy until she came in his mouth and then fucked her in the shower and, yeah, Bree was one very content girl.

If he found it odd to spend the morning at her home, he didn’t show it. No, he boldly moved around the place like he lived there, appearing completely at ease.

“I’ll walk with you to Pot of Gold, but I can’t stay,” he said. “I have some things to take care of at the steakhouse today.” He co-owned the very popular restaurant with Vinnie. She’d eaten there a few times—the food was damn good.

“You need to tell the chef to put profiteroles back on the dessert menu,” she said.

“Didn’t you once throw one of those at Moira’s head?”

“Me waste a profiterole? No.” She drank the last of her coffee. “That was Elle.”

“I should’ve guessed,” he mumbled.

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