I long to wrap my arms around her and trace circles on the small of her back. For her to push up on her toes and claim my mouth the way she almost did last night.
I seethe with the need to erase that bastard from her memory…and for the two of us to quit wasting time and surrender to temptation.
But I don’t do any of those things.
Instead, I place my palms on the desk behind her hips, building a cage and trapping her without touching a single inch of her. I lower my head until my mouth hovers next to her cheek, near enough that my breath stirs the tiny hairs at her temple.
She smells of vanilla and jasmine. Warm, soft, and delicious. Tempting. I could drag my tongue over her throat and taste her like an ice cream cone.
But I don’t. Not yet.
Maeve stares up at me, chin tilted, eyes defiant but soft at the edges. The kind of softness that undoes men who should know better.
Her throat moves, but nothing comes out.
Is she wondering why I’m still here?
I’m not.
I’ll be damned if I give another Shout the opportunity to corner her again.
I don’t trust myself not to care.
Because I already do. And that’s a problem.
Her eyes flutter shut, her lashes leaving soft shadows on her cheeks. When they open again, those clear brown irises ignite with a challenge. Clear, dangerous, intoxicating.
For one long minute, we don’t move.
I shouldn’t be this close. Maeve is not a woman I’m allowed to want.
She’s an assignment. A variable.
A means to an end.
She licks her lips, and I devour the act, a spark of white-hot lust scorching my veins. “I could ask you the same thing, Kellin. What aren’t you telling me?”
Chapter 12
Maeve
For a heartbeat, the world stops spinning. I’m frozen in place while the room fades away. The lamp, the desk, the files…
Only Kellin and I remain.
“You could ask.” His statement lacks the smooth, controlled cadence of the businessman and strategist I’ve come to know. Instead, the harsh rasp sounds like a man unbuttoned. “But I’d rather spend this time on more enjoyable pursuits.”
Kellin’s gaze drops to my mouth, and he grazes his knuckles over my jawline. His touch sets fire to every nerve in my body.
Desire ignites like a bright flame in the dark.
The memory of Shout’s fingers on my skin vanishes, replaced by the gentle pressure of Kellin’s featherlight touch.
Heat coils low in my belly as his head dips.
Before I can catch my breath, his lips crash into mine, demanding and desperate.
The kiss I longed for, twenty-four hours later. On his terms instead of mine.
