But I don’t.
Because if I do…
I won’t stop next time.
Chapter
Six
Cassandra
Dax was like a tornado, beautiful to look at, hypnotic in the way storms always are, but if you got too close he destroyed everything in his wake. I honestly don’t know what I was thinking—I’m not that girl. I don’t kiss men I’ve only just met. I don’t follow them down dark corridors in seedy clubs and go into a pleasure room like I’m someone who knows how to handle that kind of danger.
Fuck, I was moments away from begging.
Another thing I don’t do.
I don’t beg.
But I wanted to be on my knees begging Dax—fuck, the man had brought me to my knees without even touching me properly.
He had warned me.
He had fucking warned me, but I hadn’t listened.
Although, who could blame me? His speech sounded like something men rehearsed in the mirror, ready to weaponise when they wanted to tempt a woman with that dangerous, big scary military man persona.
That was the problem though.
I was tempted.
I was there, right on the edge, ready to fall—and he just let me go. I shake my head at myself.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I could move on from this, pretend I never met him—except I couldn’t get the way he tasted out of my fucking mouth, and every time I closed my eyes all I could see were those cold ocean-blue eyes staring back at me with enough heat to set me alight from the inside out.
I thought a cold shower would help.
It didn’t.
I thought getting back to Lola’s place and pretending like nothing happened would erase the memory of his mouth on mine.
It didn’t.
I thought if I scrubbed hard enough, I could wash him off me.
Yeah. That really fucking didn’t work.
So now I’m curled up on Lola’s oversized couch—draped in her borrowed hoodie, hood up, legs tucked under me—trying not to think about Dax fucking Kingston.
Spoiler alert: I’m failing.
Horribly.
The front door swings open like a storm has just walked in, a gust of cold air slicing through the warmth of the flat, and I don’t even have to look up to know it’s her.
“You’re sulking.”
