flesh above my zipper.
“I’ve held fast to that promise,” he says, dipping his head low and dragging the tip of his nose down the same path, “despite coming close to shattering it so many times I’ve lost count. I’ve fought my feelings at every turn, even when I knew damn well you could read them like a book, line by line, word by fucking word. There’s never hiding anything from you—not then, and not now. Yet I tried. I’m still trying.” His tongue darts out to lick the hollow of my throat, then he lifts his head, mouth brushing across mine with a soft moan that makes me instantly wet. There he hovers, the taste of whiskey sharp and seductive on his breath, my pulse jumping beneath the press of his thumb, my core throbbing.
I don’t say a word. Don’t move. Don’t even breathe.
“Congratulations, Miss Milan. You’ve finally done it. Utterly ruined me, as I knew you would. You’re here in this house, in this room, and I can’t take a damn breath without tasting your scent, without imagining my mouth on your skin. Without imagining…” He drags his mouth to my ear, his hot breath making me shiver. “…the sound of your moans as you come for me.”
A gasp of pleasure escapes my lips, and slowly, torturously, he unzips Baz’s hoodie and pushes it off my shoulders, then goes for the buttons on my flannel.
“So please,” he says, popping open the first one. “Call my bluff. Make a damn liar out of me. Obliterate the last vestiges of my control.” Hard knuckles brush over my nipple, then he turns his hand, cupping my breast through the fabric and teasing the aching flesh with his thumb. “Because tonight?”
I lean back against the door and close my eyes, my knees weakening, my body melting, desire weaving a spell through every last nerve ending…
“Tonight, I’m going to break every…” Fingers tighten around my collar, and he hauls me close, his energy cresting in a wave of rage and frustration and pure, uncut lust.
“Last…” He tears open the flannel, the remaining buttons scattering across the hardwood floor.
“Vow.” He yanks the shirt from my arms, tossing it to the floor, revealing my bare flesh to the cool air. Wild, feral, he devours me with his eyes as I stand before him in nothing but a pair of purple underwear, nipples hard and tight, long hair tickling my shoulders.
“Goddess,” he breathes, reaching between my thighs, his fingers tracing the shape of that lacy triangle.
Close enough I can feel the heat radiating from his skin.
Far enough to make me ache.
“Is this what you want?” he demands in that bone-chilling voice, his eyes blazing a warning I feel deep in my core. His presses a hot kiss to my neck as his fingers slide inside the waistband, brushing my flesh with teasing strokes, moving lower and lower but still just out of reach.
My stomach is trembling, my breath ragged, my nerves burning for more, but I bite my lip to keep from crying out. From letting him know how quickly he’s unraveling me.
“Is this why you came to me tonight,” he says, teeth grazing my earlobe, “hot and wet, half-naked, knowing it would drive me out of my mind?”
“I didn’t… I thought…” I swallow hard, words tangling in my throat as he finally reaches my clit. I arch my hips, hungry for more. Desperate for it. Dying for it.
“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” he teases. “And here I thought it was the not saying things that kept fucking us all up. Isn’t that what you said?”
I nod, damn near losing my mind.
“What is it, then? Now’s your chance to tell me all those things you’ve been holding back. All those hot, reckless things you want me to do to you.”
A tremor rolls down my spine, my heart banging wildly, stars swimming before my eyes. I can’t hold out another moment. “Are you… are you going to touch me?”
“Touch you? Like this?” He moves past my clit, fingers tracing my outer lips, then dipping inside, slow and deep. I gasp and reach for his shoulders, fingernails digging into his flesh as he pulls out, then slides back in, unleashing a rush of pure pleasure between my thighs.
But just before I lose myself completely, he pulls back out, dragging his fingers up to my neck, wrapping his hand around my throat and pinning me against the door. With his free hand, he fumbles with his pants—the clank of