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His thumb brushes across my lips. I shiver, closing my eyes. His hand moves lower, down to my breasts, teasing my hard nipple.
We haven’t even kissed yet. It feels like utter ecstasy.
“You know what I thought the moment I first saw you?” He’s speaking quietly. Not that calming voice, but huskier. Laced with need.
“Tell me.”
“I thought you were beautiful, standing there with a body behind you, looking like nothing can stop you from getting what you want. Defiant and gorgeous. But still so small.” His hand moves back up, lacing into my long hair. “I thought, if anyone’s going to kill me, it’s going to be this girl.”
“I don’t believe you. Sounds like a line to me.”
“No? You should. I haven’t lied to you yet.”
“But will you?”
“Only if it’s the kind of lie that will make you feel good.” He leans forward, kissing my neck.
I let out a whimper before biting my lip to make myself stop. “This is a bad idea. I don’t even know you.”
“You know enough.”
“Who do you work for? Why are you chasing Burian?”
I should shut my mouth and enjoy, but I can’t help myself.
“The questions again.” He bites me gently, right on the shoulder. I let out a gasp, but his grip tightens and he doesn’t let me go. “These questions are going to get you killed. Why not stop talking and let me do all the work?”
“Because I’m pretty sure I’m going to like what’s about to happen too much. Then I’m going to hide.” It’s the truth. A hard truth, one I’ve learned a dozen times over the years. Whenever men get close to me, I start to push them away, mostly because I’m afraid I’ll like it too much.
Like this, with Lanzo. It feels too good, and that must mean it’s wrong.
“It’s easy to take what you want,” he says, purring next to the soft skin under my chin. “I’ve been doing it all my life.” He kisses my neck again. Sucks hard, like he wants to bruise me. I gasp, a little moan escaping my lips. “I’m not the type of man to deny myself anything.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. You seem like the taking type.”
“Which is why I won’t deny myself you, even if you’re trouble.”
“I’m trouble?” I glare up at him. “You’re the one dragging me around with stories about killers.”
“And you’re the one appearing in the bedroom door looking like sex and heaven all wrapped into one.”
“This wasn’t supposed to be like that. I just—” I stare into his eyes. What can I tell him right now? It’ll just be a lie if I try to pretend like this hadn’t crossed my mind, and I won’t be the liar in this room. “I just can’t sleep.”
His smile tells me he knows what I mean.
“Let’s see if I can help with that.”
And he buries his mouth against mine.
I kiss him hard. A lip-bruising kiss. Hungry, so damn hungry. All my pent-up anger, fear, frustration, all my desire spills out into this kiss. He tastes like mint and grass and something sweet. It’s dizzying, heady, overwhelming. His tongue invades my mouth as his hands tighten their grip like he’s making sure I know he claimed ownership over me. I groan, moaning into his mouth, moaning against his tongue.
His hands reach down, and he takes off my shirt.
I let him. There’s no stopping this. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. I need this man tonight, even if I think I’ll regret it tomorrow. Right now, I want him to make me feel good, and I can tell already that he knows how. My bra comes off next, and he’s licking my nipples, sucking them hard as he pulls my hair.
“Beautiful girl,” he murmurs. “Look at you. I had a dream about you once, but this is better. Pink nipples. So stiff already.” His praise is like lightning up my spine, making my brain bleed more raw want.
“We both know this is a mistake,” I whisper as he pushes me back onto the bed.
