out of this mess.
I slowly turn to face him, looking up into his pale blue eyes as my hands lift to the waist of his jeans. He doesn’t stop me, just stands quietly—deathly still—watching me as I pop the first button of his fly. Seduce him. My hand skims his flat stomach, the hairs tickling me. I pull in air nervously, moving to the next button. My mouth is dry, my swallows thick, every nerve I have thrumming. The next button. His astute eyes darken, his hands still motionless by his sides. The next button. I have to clear my blurring vision, and Danny subtly bites down on his bottom lip.
Our eyes still locked, I take the sides of his jeans, pushing them down over the swell of his ass. His skin is fire. His eyes are wild. His lips are calling me. And then he licks them, taking one small step into me, closing the space, silently telling me to kiss him. This kiss is going to be the death of me. Literally.
I reach up on my tiptoes and slide my hand into the front of his boxers, my fingers skimming the hard, taut flesh of his erection. Our lips meet. Just touch, and my hand circles his thick girth. I inhale sharply. This isn’t the first time I’ve touched him so intimately. I know he’s well endowed. But a faint breathy gasp still escapes, and Danny swallows it down. “You don’t want to do this,” he says against my lips, his arm circling my lower back.
“I do.” I so do. Even with a million strands of guilt and doubt blitzing my head, I know I really want this. I need this.
His mouth leaves mine, his palm moving from my back to my wrist and seizing it harshly. “No, you don’t.” Pulling my hand from his boxers, he steps back, breaking all contact, his eyes paling again. Icy. “Every time we’re close or touch, I can feel your lust crawling all over my skin,” he says quietly. “But just then, all I felt was fear. You’re scared.”
I look away. “You’re the Angel-faced Assassin. Of course I’m scared.”
He takes my jaw harshly, pressing the tips of his fingers into my flesh. “You’re not scared of me. You’re scared because you really, really want me to fuck you. Hard. Ruthlessly.” A wicked smile ghosts his lips. “And that fear I can feel is because you know you’ll love every second,” he finishes on a whisper.
I pull myself free and push myself back into the vanity unit. “I need to take a shower,” I tell him, desperate to get him out of the bathroom so I can compose myself and rethink my approach.
“Help yourself.” He sweeps his hand out toward the stall. “Don’t tell me you’re suddenly shy.”
If only to prove a point, I shrug off the robe, dropping it at his feet, before I step into the shower and turn it on. The water is cold. Good. I need something to shock me back to life.
“I have a dinner meeting this evening.” He pulls down the seat of the toilet and lowers himself, resting his elbows on his knees as he watches me wetting my hair. “You’re coming.”
“Perry?” I ask, more dread falling. I don’t think I can handle another spectacle like our romantic dinner in Vegas. And now I know Nox is lurking in the shadows, hiding my desire is paramount.
“Not Adams.” He smiles when I exhale my relief, standing and walking out of the bathroom. I watch his back disappear on a small frown, and moments later, he’s back, a bag in his hand. Placing it on the vanity unit, he pulls out a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, followed by some shower gel. “As much as I like you smelling of me, I thought maybe you’d prefer something more feminine.” He approaches the stall and sets the bottles on the shelf in the shower. “Be ready for seven.” Plunging his hand into my wet hair, he hauls me forward until our faces are close. “Use plenty of the shower gel,” he whispers. “I can smell fear on you too.” He drops me and leaves, and I have no choice but to sink to my knees when my wobbly legs give, my breathing erratic and strained. He sees me. Has from the first time our eyes locked. And he’s right. I am scared. I’m scared of my attraction toward him.
* * *
After finally convincing my legs to work, I