Page 140 of The Art of Ruin

Every time her leg brushes mine lightly with the movement of the car, awareness flashes hot under my skin all over again.

I loosen my tie slightly, suddenly unable to tolerate the pressure of it against my throat.

Beside me, Casey watches as rain tracks slowly down the darkened window.

“You’re quiet,” she says eventually.

I turn my head slightly toward her, my palm skimming over the silky skin of her thigh, because not touching her feels like torture. “You’re one to talk, Tesoro.”

I watch the pulse in her elegant throat pulse wildly at my touch, her quick inhale telling me she’s as affected as I am. Her eyes drop to my lips, her body leaning into mine.

A sexy smile touches her mouth. “I’m thinking.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Maybe it is, but I’m thinking it might be worth it.”

Her hand skims along my biceps, and I feel her touch through my shirt like a brand. The smile lingers another second before fading into something softer, more uncertain, as she lays her head on my shoulder. It’s intimate in a different way, but somehow this feels deeper.

I know exactly what she’s thinking about because I’m thinking about it too.

The kiss, her mouth, my hands on her waist. The breathy sound she made when I pulled her against me harder. The fact I came dangerously close to forgetting we were standing on a public balcony.

I drag a slow breath through my lungs and immediately regret it because her perfume still clings faintly to my jacket.

“Casey.”

She turns her head up toward me slowly.

The city lights catch briefly against the green silk wrapped around her body, and something inside me finally gives up entirely. “Don’t go back to the annex tonight.”

The words settle between us heavily. The words are simple, but the request is so much bigger. I’m asking her to take a risk on me, on us, with no promises between us. And I know the risk for her is so much higher because her heart is barely healed. I’m her boss, and yet I can’t take it back. I don’t want to.

Her pulse jumps visibly in her throat.

For a second, she just looks at me, and I can practically see the moment she understands I’m not asking casually. I’m barely asking at all.

“This will complicate things,” she murmurs softly. “What about Letty and your family?”

I wish I had all the answers for her, that I could make her promises right now, but all I can offer her is tonight. “There’s no pressure here, Tesoro. If you want to stop and forget this ever happened, I’ll respect that decision.”

The words come out rougher than intended.

She stares at me for a second too long before shaking her head once. “No. I want this.”

Relief hits me so hard it almost feels indistinguishable from hunger.

The rest of the drive is unbearable as I keep her tucked in beside me and wish for the driver to go faster.

The Brownstonebarely has time to settle around us before I’m turning toward her. Casey’s coat slips from her shoulders onto the floor somewhere near the staircase, but neither of us pays attention to where it lands because the second the front door closes behind us properly, she’s looking at me with the same flushed, unsteady expression she had on the balcony and whatever control I had left finally snaps.

I cross the space between us fast enough to pull a startled breath from her before my hands are on her waist and my mouth is on hers again.

Christ.

The kiss turns desperate almost immediately.

Weeks of restraint, stolen glances, and half-finished moments crash together all at once as I back her against the wall beside the staircase, one hand tangling into her hair while theother slides beneath the split in the silk at her thigh, needing to touch skin. I haven’t been able to think properly since the second she walked into that ballroom tonight. She’s utterly stunning, and for now she’s mine.