Page 94 of Trigger Happy Ending

Alex leans back and looks Soren over, like he’s deciding what his next move will be. "That right?"

Soren’s mouth barely moves. "That’s right."

Alex’s hand stays wrapped around his drink, but his knuckles whiten. "Didn’t realize she came with a bodyguard."

"She doesn’t."

"Then what are you?"

Actually, I wouldn't mind hearing how he answers this.

Soren takes another step forward, close enough now that Alex has to tip his chin up to keep eye contact. "The reason you’re about to walk away."

Alex’s jaw ticks. He looks ready to push, to stake his territory. I wonder what's stronger, his ego or his self-preservation? He glances at the small crowd, the crew, the guests and thankfully decides there's too many witnesses to create a scene.

I rise and lay a hand on Alex chest. “Later, Alex,” I purr, giving him a wink.

Alex’s cold eyes stay on Soren, but he doesn’t speak.

Soren’s hand finds my lower back, warm and possessive, as he guides me away from Alex. His hand stays firmly planted on the small of my back as we slip through the bustle of bodies onto the deck. The sound of the sea swallows the music from the deck below. It's quieter here, off limits it seems. Stopping halfway down the length of the yacht, far away from prying eyes, he leans over the railing and looks out across the dark expanse of the ocean.

“You should stay away from him.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“I don’t.”

I raise my eyebrow in disbelief. He does. He just won’t say it.

Why won’t he say it?

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

“Neither does getting pawed by that cocksucker,” Soren snaps, angry eyes focused on the vast nothingness.

My lips part in surprise at his outburst. I look over my shoulder to ensure there’s no one around. My voice is nothing but a hushed whisper. “You can’t blow our cover just because you don’t like seeing me flirt.”

I give him a few moments to answer me, but he doesn’t. He just stares off into the blackness of the ocean, ignoring me.

I huff a frustrated breath through my nose and turn to head back inside, before he calls out, “You don’t have to let him touch you.”

Stopping, I turn back towards him. The ocean breeze whips up my ponytail, hair swirling around my face. He straightens and stands. He steps closer towards me and heat rolls off him, even in the cool wind. His eyes say it all. It pains him to see another man’s hands on me.

I reach out a hand and gently pick up one of his hands. I entwine our fingers together and lay our woven hands right above my black heart. “I never let anyone touch me unless I want them to.”

His breath deepens as I hold our hands on my chest. “Listen, I—”

I press a sharpened fingernail to his lips, and he falls silent. I don’t want him to speak it into existence, because I know.

I know this can’t work.

This is his last mission before he is free. I may be a selfish bitch, but I’d never want to take away his freedom. Not when he’s earned it.

“Don’t say it,” I whisper.

He hesitates, like he wants to argue or get his point across or something.

Instead he leans in, breath warm against my mouth. “You’ve got me all fucked up.”