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Bringing Kane home is what makes the house mine tonight.

We do get a head start on things, though. By the time we reach my street, my lipstick is damaged beyond repair and one stocking has a run above the knee from snagging on Kane’s rings.

I unlock the front door and welcome him in. Once he steps through, I close it. It takes a few tries to throw the deadbolt and secure the chain, because my hands are quivering.

Not in a bad way, though.

In the best way possible.

“Just so we’re clear,” I say, still facing the door, “this has nothing to do with the money or the deal.”

“Understood.”

“It’s because I want it. Tonight, specifically. Me.”

“Say it, then,” Kane says. “The whole thing. One time.”

I turn around and look at him standing on my mat in a black suit with snow melting on his shoulders.

“I want to have sex with you,” I say. “In my house. Because I want to, and for no other reason on this earth.”

Then I hold out my hand.

“Follow me upstairs,” I tell him.

36

DELILAH

Kane follows me into my bedroom and stops just inside the door.

He has been inside this house before. He sat on this floor while I cried over Vivian’s cruelty.

Tonight is different.

My bloodstream feels carbonated. I’m all sparkles and tingles, every part of me, with a few particular parts lit up even more than the rest.

Every place he’s ever touched me is alive and remembering.

Thighs.

Throat.

Lips.

More.

Kane stands still. He watches me with the patience of a predator who has already been invited inside and therefore has no reason to chase.

His hand gripping the door frame is the only sign that he feels anything close to what I’m feeling. Even from where I’m standing in the middle of the room, with the mattress just grazing the backs of my thighs, I can see how white his knuckles are.

“So… now what?” I ask.

“Well,” he says thoughtfully, “there are two options. One is that I pin you onto the floor right here and do every single one of the things that I whispered to you at the restaurant. You remember that, don’t you, Lilah?”

I swallow and nod. “Mhmm” squeaks out past my lips.

“But the option I prefer,” he says, “is that we continue playing the little game we’ve been playing since this morning. Where we pretend that you can tell me what to do.”