He turned without another word, and I sat there stunned, still trying to catch my breath as he walked to the door, calm as ever. I heard the lock click behind him, and I fell back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling like it held answers. My body still hummed, still sensitive, still wide open in more ways than one.
My thoughts were all over the place, torn between wanting to slap the shit out of him for flipping the script like that and wanting him right back between my legs. I should’ve known better. I should’ve remembered exactly who he was… whatthiswas.
I forgot. Because the way he touched me, the way he tasted me like I was something he needed to survive…God help me, I forgot.And now I didn’t know if I was falling for a man who actually wanted me or a man who just wanted another thing to control. It was almost maddening.
“You have got to be kidding me.” I sat on the edge of the bed, stunned, my chest rising and falling like I’d just run through a storm. I shot up off the bed and pulled on my pajama shorts before pacing the floor. After a few seconds, I stormed to thedoor. I banged on it, loud and hard. “Nyce! Open the damn door!”
I heard movement, then the click of the lock. The door cracked open, and there he was, leaning against the frame, looking too calm. His eyes dropped to my mouth, then slowly lifted to meet my stare. He said nothing. Anger flared through my chest. Without thinking, I raised my hand, but before it could land, he caught my wrist.
“Don’t.”
I snatched my hand back. “Youdon’t. Don’t act like you didn’t just...”
“Princess,” he cut in, jaw clenched. “We’re not doing this shit.”
I laughed, humorless and breathless. “Youkissed me.Youtouched me.Youlooked at me like you couldn’t stop. And now you’re walking away like… it didn’t happen?”
He stepped forward, crowding my space for half a second before backing me toward the bed. I stumbled slightly, and when the backs of my knees hit the mattress, I sat down, staring up at him. “I shouldn’t’ve done that shit,” he muttered, shaking his head, voice low.
“But you did,” I whispered. “And now you want to pretend like you didn’t?” He didn’t answer. He ran a hand down his face, sighing hard, then turned and walked out of the room again. I sat there for a second, stunned, then got up and followed him. “Don’t just walk away.”
He didn’t say a word. Just kept walking until he reached the living room and plopped down on the couch. I stopped a few feet away, staring at the tension in his back, the way his chest rose with each slow, forced breath. I swallowed hard, voice soft as I kept inching closer to sit across from him.
“What just happened?” I asked. “What are we doing? I mean, we haven’t even talked about the fact that you have a whole damn underground escape route. And then… this. What the hell, Nyce?”
He didn’t say shit right away. He just sat there, eyes narrowing like he was trying to decide if I deserved an answer. Then, with a slow sigh, he stood up and walked over to the bar cart and poured yet another drink.
I chuckled, sadly, shaking my head. “You know what? I need a damn drink.”
His mouth curved like I’d just said something funny. “That so?”
He turned his back to me for a moment, reaching for the bottle on the counter. The sound of amber liquid being poured into two glasses filled the quiet. When he walked over, he held one out to me, and I hesitated. My fingers brushed his as I took it, and my pulse jumped before I could hide it. Of course, he noticed.
“You don’t drink,” he inferred, settling onto the couch beside me.
“Here and there, actually,” I answered, lifting the glass with a steady hand even though my nerves were anything but. Theburn hit my chest the second I swallowed. I breathed through it. “I figured I deserved one… considering everything.”
“Mmm.” His eyes dropped to my mouth, lingering.
I gave a soft, dry laugh. “I got kidnapped, almost shot at, and ran through some underground tunnel like a slave. And then…” I paused, meeting his gaze. “You gave me head that damn near changed my life.” The heat between us wasn’t just simmering anymore. It was thick and heavy, like I was sure his…
“You’re not wrong,” he muttered, breaking my thoughts. “I don’t build shit unless I plan to use it. That tunnel’s saved my ass a few times. That’s all you need to know.”
The way he said it made me sit up straighter. That wall of his cracked for half a second. Just long enough for me to catch a glimpse of what was hiding behind it, something hurt and buried. “You’ve been through a lot,” I said quietly, surprising even myself. “I can see it. Whatever it was… it’s still in you.”
He stiffened as if I had touched a nerve he thought was numb. His jaw clenched as he raised his glass and sipped from it before he really looked at me. “You don’t know the half of it,” he muttered.
My breath caught. There it was again. That heat. That damn invisible thread was pulling me toward him, no matter how much I hated it. I didn’t even think. I just moved, climbing onto his lap like I didn’t care what came next.
His head fell back with a soft “fuck” as my thighs bracketed his hips and my hands slid up his bare chest. “Don’t,” he warned, voice gravelly, his eyes squeezing shut. “Move, Princess.”
“I’m not afraid of you, Nyce. I’m attracted to you, and I know you feel the same towards me.”
His hands came to my waist, gripping tight like he was trying to move me off him, but he didn’t. He just held me there, breathing deep like he needed a second. “You don’t know how the fuck I feel.”
“I do,” I whispered, my body pressing closer. “I want this. I want you.”
He opened his eyes, jaw ticking. “Nah. I don’t mix business with pleasure.”
