“Yes, they do. You’ll want to be there. I’ll make you miss it when you’re out of it. I’ll make you addicted to what we share as I show you what it is to be my queen. But, a brain such as yours would be wasted if not permitted to work, and I’m too smart to waste resources.
“Therefore, I will keep you safe while you amass power and connections, knowing that at the end of every night, you will be in our bed, in our bedroom, in our house. That you’ll want to be there. That you’ll miss it if you’re not there…”
I don’t think he could have said anything hotter to me.
He wants my body and my brain?!
As we come to a stoplight, I find my gaze ensnared by his when he smoothes a finger over the band circling my throat and down the inverted V of my top. When his thumb slides beneath the fabric, tracing that same downward path, a breath hisses from my lips.
Honking behind me makes me jolt, but he croons, “Ignore them.”
“I’m holding up traffic,” I say weakly, arm sagging as I turn into his caress.
It’s innocent, yet that ache—it’s back.
I want him to touch me everywhere. I need him to?—
“I’ll make you crave my touch, Victoria.”
“And what about you?” I demand, vexed by my body’s reaction to him when he sounds unaffected. “Will you crave mine?”
Another soft flick of his thumb, one that has my toes curling yet again, punctuates our conversation. “I already do.”
That he seems so matter-of-fact bewilders me.
He wants me.
So, what’s the reason for the delay?
It’s as if he’s a smorgasbord for me to feast on but there’s a glass wall between us so I can look, but not touch.
I want the touching, dammit!
“I don’t understand you,” I croak.
“Good.”
Agitated, I growl when another round of honking assails my ears. I set off, and his hand falls in a controlled drop to resettle on his lap.
I bitterly resent that I miss his touch. Already.
“Are you teasing me?”
“You’d know if I were teasing you.”
“How would I?!”
“I’m engaging in reconnaissance.”
“Reconnaissance? I’m not a battlefield.”
“Since when? Shouldn’t I figure out the best way to approach you?”
“Haven’t you done that already?” When I pull in again, it’s to park. “Isn’t this you approaching me?”
He doesn’t answer until we’re in the space, and I’m grateful because if he taunted me, I might have crashed Shay’s birthday present from his uncles. “This is me testing the waters.”
Because I’ll throttle him if I don’t change the subject, I remark, “Thank you for the package, by the way.”
