“My hands on your hips… my lips on your throat…” He taps each body part in turn. Just one fingertip, but it might as well be a sledgehammer, if my nervous system has anything to say about it. Each point of contact lights up like a nuclear explosion. It burns, it stings, it feels so fucking good.
“My tongue between your?—”
“I saidstop.”
Bastian goes still beside me, but I know him too well to think that’ll be the end of it. He’s not going to let this go.
But I’m done being the one on the back foot here.
“You think you’re so clever,” I spit out, “and I’m just an open book before your eyes. But what aboutyou, Bastian, huh?” I turn toward him in the darkness. “You think I haven’t noticed? I feel you looking at me constantly. Always, always looking at me.”
I gulp, terrified of what the price of running my mouth like this is going to be.
Then I double-down and keep going.
“Your hand on my lower back hurts youwaymore than it helps me. When I dropped my stick the other day, Iheardyou swallow.” I lean closer. “You’re every bit as desperate as I am. You’re just better at hiding it.”
Bastian doesn’t respond immediately. Then he exhales, a long, shuddering breath that comes from somewhere deep in his chest. “You’re right.” He props himself up on an elbow. “I’ve been rock-hard since you walked into this bedroom. Watching you sleep in my bed—” He breaks off with a rough laugh. “It’s the sweetest kind of torture I’ve ever known. I want you so badly, Eliana, that it physically fuckingkillsme.”
His labored breathing is the only sound in the room.
“But I’ve kept to myself, even when it’s pure agony. Foryou.Because every time I get close, you flinch. I destroyed us once already and I refuse to do it again just because my cock has opinions about the situation.”
“Bastian—”
“Quiet now.” He presses a finger to my lips, but gently. “Don’t say something you’ll regret in the morning. Nighttime Eliana makes promises that Daytime Eliana can’t keep. You told me that yourself.”
He’s right.
Goddammit, I wish he wasn’t, though.
And for a moment, a short moment, a brief moment, I consider throwing all caution to the wind. It couldn’t hurt, could it? If I just gave myself this outlet, then we’d both be able to find some semblance of peace. Because this is no way to live. This constant, thrumming, aching need that burns below the surface… neither of us can keep going on like that. It’ll kill one or both of us sooner or later. Probably sooner.
So I could give up the fight.
Icould.
Maybe I even will…
Then Bastian’s burner phone buzzes on the nightstand.
The magic disappears instantly. Bastian curses under his breath and reaches for the phone. My skin goes cold where his heat was radiating just seconds ago.
I feel him go taut beside me as he reads the message in a mumble I can’t decipher. When he reaches the end, he sucks in a surprised breath.
“What is it?” I ask, already dreading the answer.
“It’s Harold.” Bastian’s voice has changed completely. Gone is the low, seductive purr from moments ago. In its place is the clipped, all-business tone I remember and despise. “He has information. Wants to meet tomorrow.” He gets out of bed. “This could be the break we need. If Harold’s got something concrete…”
I feel a cold spring of fear in my stomach where all the desire once was. It’s not Harold I’m afraid of, though—it’s Bastian walking out that door and not coming back.
I sit up, pulling the covers around myself. “Are you going alone?”
“You’re not coming, if that’s what you’re implying.” Clothes swish as he gets dressed again. “You need to stay here where it’s safe.”
I want to scream all the things I’ve been saying again and again—I’m not helpless, I can contribute, I’m so fucking tired of being left behind while everyone else gets todosomething—but dead horses don’t come back to life no matter how many times you beat them.
Bastian must know what I’m struggling to keep to myself, because he says softly, “Not tonight, Eliana. Please. Just let me handle this one thing without worrying about you being in the crossfire.”
