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“What does that mean?” I pressed my hands against his chest but not to push him away.
His heart beat steadily under my palm.
“It means you’re a distraction I can’t afford.” His eyes darkened. “But one I can’t seem to resist.”
“I don’t understand you,” I whispered. “One minute, you’re threatening me; the next you’re…” I shook my head helplessly. “Why am I here?”
“Because I saw what I shouldn’t have.” He caught my chin again, forcing me to meet his gaze. “And took what I wanted.” He sighed. “And now I can’t let you go.”
I searched his face, noticing little details I hadn’t before. The scar through his right eyebrow. The flecks of silver in his stubble. The tiny crease between his eyes that deepened when he frowned. “Who are you?” I whispered.
For a long moment, he just looked at me. Then he huffed out a breath, shaking his head. “The better question is, who are you?”
I snapped my mouth shut.
I still hadn’t told him my name. Why?
His gaze dropped to my mouth. “Right now, all you need to know is that I’m the man you desire to kiss you breathless.”
My heart skipped a beat. “I don’t think so,” I said, but the protest sounded weak even to my own ears.
His lips curved. “No?” He leaned in, his breath feathering over my mouth. “Are you sure about that?”
I tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. He had me caged between his body and the wall. “Gabe,” I said, his name coming out in a breathy gasp.
“All you have to do is say no and mean it, and I’ll stop.” His eyes gleamed. “But we both know you don’t really want me to stop, do you?”
Heat flooded my cheeks. I pressed my lips together, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.
“That’s what I thought.” He nudged my legs apart with his knee, sliding one thigh between them.
I bit back a moan at the pressure, the ache inside me intensifying.
“You can lie to yourself all you want, little one,” he said softly. “But your body doesn’t lie.”
I shook my head, clutching at the last remaining threads of my control. He was wrong. I didn’t want this. Didn’t want him.
Then he covered my mouth with his, and I was lost.
A groan rumbled in his chest as his tongue slid past my lips. He kissed me like he was starving, like I was the only thing that could satisfy him.
His hands were everywhere at once, tangling in my wet hair, gripping my neck, skimming down my back to squeeze my hips.
I kissed him back with everything in me, years of pent-up desire and secret fantasies exploding to the surface.
I fisted my fingers in his hair, my tongue dueling with his. I rocked my hips against his thigh, chasing the building pressure inside me. I was drowning in sensation, lost to the feel and taste of him.
And when we finally broke apart, chests heaving and eyes wild, I knew with a bone-deep certainty that no was not an option. I was already his.
He stared down at me, eyes dark and smoldering.
I could feel his breath hit my skin, the rigid length of him pressed against my belly, and I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what came next, didn’t know how far this was going to go, but my whole body thrummed with need for him.
“Tell me you want this,” he said hoarsely. “Tell me you want me, little one.”
I licked my lips and watched his gaze track the movement.
He wanted the words, but I didn’t know if I could give them to him. Admitting how much I desired him would be crossing a line I wasn’t sure I could come back from.
