My body responded to his words with embarrassing immediacy—heat pooling low in my belly, heart racing, skin suddenly too sensitive against the soft fabric of my sweater.
One text shouldn't have the power to arouse me this way, to make me feel both vulnerable and desired in equal measure.
I sank onto the couch, something in his admission breaking through my defenses.
This wasn't a game to him either.
It wasn't just the thrill of forbidden fruit or the conquest of his son's ex.
He was as caught in this inexplicable pull as I was, as confused and conflicted and unwilling to walk away.
Another message appeared:
You think there are rules for people like us. Lines that can't be crossed. Boundaries that must be respected. But I've never played by anyone else's rules, Savannah.
And then, before I could respond:
I don't play by their rules. I play by mine.
Words that crystallized everything about him—the quiet authority, the uncompromising confidence, the absolute certainty that he could reshape reality to his will.
It wasn't arrogance, not exactly.
More like the assurance of a man who had spent a lifetime bending the world to his vision.
I set the phone down without responding, knowing anything I typed would reveal too much of the conflict raging inside me.
The wanting.
The fear.
The shameful excitement at the thought of surrendering to something I knew would destroy everything I'd built.
So many thoughts loomed in my mind—Lucas across a conference table, discussing business as if we were strangers when we both knew the taste of each other's skin, the sound of each other's pleasure.
Miles oblivious beside him, still believing he had some claim on my future.
How could I possibly face them both?
How could I sit in that room and pretend nothing had happened, that my body didn't ache for a man I had no right to want?
And yet, what choice did I have?
To run would be to admit defeat, to acknowledge that what had happened between Lucas and me was powerful enough to derail my professional life.
I couldn't give him—give either of them—that power over me.
I would reschedule the meeting.
Be the consummate professional. Would ignore the heat in Lucas's eyes and the messages burning in my phone. Prove to myself that one night of incredible sex wasn't enough to make me risk everything I'd worked for.
But as I finally crawled into bed, exhaustion dragging at my limbs, his words followed me into the darkness.
I don't play by their rules. I play by mine.
And God help me, I wanted nothing more than to learn exactly what those rules might be.
Chapter 7
