“Poor you.” I try to inject venom into my words, but they come out breathless. “Having your perfectly controlled world disrupted.”
“You have no idea.” His eyes lock onto mine, intense enough to make my pulse race. “Eight years, Eve. Eight years rebuilding everything you destroyed. And now?”
I lift my chin, defiant despite the way my body betrays me by leaning into his touch. “Now what?”
“Now I find myself making choices that go against everything I’ve built.” His grip tightens fractionally. “Risking connections, burning bridges, all to keep you safe.”
“I never asked for your protection.” The words taste like ash in my mouth.
“No.” His thumb brushes my bottom lip, and I hate how my body responds. “You never ask for anything. You just throw yourself into danger and expect to survive on sheer stubbornness.”
The accuracy of his assessment stings. “Better than surviving on manipulation and control.”
His other hand slides into my hair, and I can’t stop the shiver that runs through me. “Is that what you think this is? Just manipulation?”
The heat of his body, the familiar scent of his cologne, the dangerous glint in his eyes—it’s all too much. I press my palms against his chest, needing distance but finding myself clutching his shirt instead.
“What else could it be?” My voice comes out raw, honest in a way I didn’t intend.
Remy’s voice comes out as raw and honest. “You already know the answer, Eve. And you’re as scared as I am to say those words.”
“Don’t.” I press harder against his chest, but my hands betray me, curling into his shirt. “Don’t make this into something it’s not.”
“No?” His fingers tighten in my hair. “Then tell me why you’re trembling.”
“Because you shot me.” I bare my teeth. “Because you’re holding me captive. Because—”
“Because you feel it too,” he cuts me off, his breath hot against my ear. “This thing between us that burns everything it touches.”
The intensity in his words hits me like a physical blow. “I never asked for that.”
“No.” His thumb traces my bottom lip. “You never ask for anything you actually want.”
“What I want,” I spit the words, “is for you to let me go.”
“Liar.” His grip tightens. “Say it again without your pulse racing. Without leaning into my touch. Without—”
I slam my palm against his chest. “Shut up.”
“Make me.” His eyes flash with challenge. “Tell me you don’t feel this. Tell me I’m imagining the way your body responds to mine and mine to yours. Tell me—”
His words hit too close, stripping away my defenses. Something inside me snaps. Before I can think better of it, I yank him forward by his shirt, crushing my mouth to his. The kiss is violent, desperate—all teeth and anger and need. He responds instantly, his body pressing me harder against the wall as his hands leave my hair to grip my hips.
I bite his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, wanting to hurt him, to mark him, to make him feel a fraction of the chaos churning inside me. He growls into my mouth, the sound vibrating through my chest as his fingers dig into my skin.
“This doesn’t change anything,” I gasp between brutal kisses, even as my body arches into his touch.
His laugh is dark against my throat. “Keep lying to yourself, Eve.”
I rake my nails down his back through his shirt, relishing his sharp intake of breath. “Fuck you.”
“That’s the plan.” His teeth graze my pulse point, and I can’t stop the moan that escapes me. “Unless you want to keep pretending this isn’t exactly what you need?”
The taunt in his voice makes me want to scream. Instead, I grab his tie, using it to pull him back to my mouth. Our kisses turn savage, a battle for dominance neither of us is willing to lose. His hands slide lower, gripping my thighs, and I wrap my legs around his waist when he lifts me.
“I still hate you,” I pant against his mouth, even as my fingers fumble with his shirt buttons.
“Tell me to stop.” His voice is rough and challenging. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
