At first, he looked irritated—maybe even exhausted. This was a bad idea. And with my track record? I could spot a bad idea the second I stepped knee-deep in one.
But then he turned, following the direction of all the tattling fingers… and his eyes locked onto mine.
That’s when his whole body changed.
His brows lowered just slightly, and his mouth parted like whatever words he had lined up got caught in his throat. His stride faltered. His eyes softened. His lips tried to curl into a smile—but he couldn’t quite commit.
I couldn’t tell if he was happy to see me… or if I needed to be reaching for my mace again.
I stood frozen, hands clasped in front of me like I was waiting patiently for his tongue-lashing.Damn, I wish his sexy ass would give me a tongue-lashing… even that was the best I ever had.My flower moistened at the thought.
Mahasin, focus. Damn.
As the shuffle of people moving off set and the whispered gossip faded into the background, the sound of my pulse thumping at the base of my throat grew louder. Or at least, it felt like it did.
He came closer.
And my breathing shallowed.
I wassuremy face was screamingI’m about to die, but he didn’t stop. He kept coming closer—so close, my personal space evaporated.
And Ifelthim.
That same intoxicating spell he cast on me back at RYZE reconjured itself and rippled through me—low and slow. It waslike lustful black magic took over my body, my mind… hell, maybe even my soul.
His scent—woodsy and rich, with the right hint of vanilla—invaded my senses like a head cold. It clouded my thoughts, fogging over the reason I was even there with the urge to let him take me right where I stood.
When he got so close, I could practically feel his breath on my face, time paused.
His eyes—deep and walnut brown—searched mine like he was trying to make sure I was real and not some hallucination cooked up by all the damn set lights.
And then, like a magnet, he reached for me. Gently. Unconsciously.
His hand lifted halfway to my cheek… and I waited.
Waiting to hear him say something soft. Something familiar.
“Dollfa—”
“Baby!”
The nickname he’d given me was sliced in half by a high-pitched voice that practically demanded the whole room know she waspresent. Andhis.
A tall, stunning woman with sun-kissed skin and curly ginger hair strutted over and wrapped her arms around him from behind.
Baby? Who the fuck is this bitch with last season’s Chanel on? I’m his baby. His Dollface. Gage is mine,I thought as I clenched my jaw.
Her touch made him blink a few times. Then he took a small step back.
And just like that… my moment with him was gone.
“Everything okay, Gagey Pooh?” she asked him, her eyes flickering to me and back.
Gagey Pooh?I almost threw up in my mouth.
He didn’t look at her. In fact, he never took his eyes off me.
“Paris, this is—” He paused, like one wrong word would crack the entire foundation of whatever lie he was living with this girl. He didn’t want her; she wasn’t his type. “This is Mahasin St. James. Mahasin, Paris Summers—my girlfriend.”
