Shady makes a sound low in his throat, but he doesn’t touch me. Not at first. His mouth opens under mine, hot and hungry, and I taste smoke, mint, and all the words he has not earned yet. My hands fist in his cut. Pain flares through my wrists. I don’t care. I want to climb him right there in the hallway, bruises, cameras, rumors, and all, just to prove my body still belongs to me.
Then his hands come off the wall.
Slow.
Giving me time.
I let them settle at my hips.
Just there.
Firm. Possessive. Waiting.
The first squeeze nearly takes my knees. His thumbs dig into my hips like a promise he is not allowed to keep yet.
He pulls back half an inch. “Tell me no.”
I breathe against his mouth. “No.”
His hands freeze.
I smile, cruel because I need to be. “Not like that, gringo. No, you don’t get more.”
His eyes burn.
“Lady.”
“Say it.”
His jaw flexes. “I don’t get more.”
“Why?”
“Because I haven’t earned it.”
The words hit me straight between the ribs.
I step back before they can turn into forgiveness.
He lets me.
That is the second thing he gives me tonight.
The greenroom door opens behind me, and Darling pokes her head out. “Lady?”
I don’t look away from Shady. “I’m good.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Okay, but I’m stylish.”
Her gaze flicks to Shady’s hands, now back at his sides. Then to my mouth. She says nothing, but her eyebrows say plenty.
Before I can answer, Nico comes running down the hall with a white face and a sealed black box in both hands.
“Lady,” he says. “This came to the front desk. They said it was for you.”
Every nerve in my body goes cold.
