The realization hits like cold water. I’m about to kiss the principal. Worse—I’m thinking about more than kissing. Thinking about hiking her up against this wall, wrapping her legs around my waist, and fucking her the way I haven’t fucked a woman in years.
Christ, I can see it. Feel it. Her tight heat wrapped around my cock, her quiet gasps in my ear, the wall shaking with each thrust. Doing the very thing I promised myself I’d never do again—putting my dick inside a woman, making myself vulnerable in that primitive, dangerous way.
I jerk back so suddenly she gasps.
“Knee to groin,” I say, voice hoarse. “Headbutt if you can manage it. Strike the throat. But your best option—” I take another step back, needing distance, “—is not letting them get that close.”
She stays against the wall, breathing hard, staring at me with those golden eyes that see too much.
“That’s enough for now.”
She nods slowly but doesn’t move from the wall. There’s something in her expression—disappointment? Understanding? Want?
Without words, all I have is her body language. The way she leaned into me. The way her breath caught. The way she’s looking at me like she wants something she doesn’t have words for.
And I want to give it to her.
Which is exactly why I can’t.
SEVEN
Jackson
TWENTY QUESTIONS
She staysagainst the wall for another heartbeat, then pushes off, moving to the far side of the room. As far from me as she can get in this small space. She curls into the corner of the couch, knees to chest, making herself small again.
The silence stretches. Five minutes. Ten.
I clean my Glock, the methodicalsnick-clickof disassembly usually calming my mind. Not tonight. Every few seconds, my gaze pulls to her. She’s staring at nothing, but I can see the thoughts churning behind those eyes. Processing. Analyzing. Probably calculating the probability of what almost happened against that wall.
Fifteen minutes.
This is torture. Not the silence itself—I’m comfortable with silence. It’shersilence. The way she contains so much behind sealed lips. Like watching a bomb tick down with no idea when it’ll detonate.
Twenty minutes.
Fuck this.
“We’re going to play a game.”
She looks up, startled.
“Twenty questions. Well, ten each. Taking turns.” I set the slide spring aside. “I need intel. About you. Background, patterns, potential vulnerabilities Phoenix might exploit. Standard protection protocol requires understanding the principal.”
Complete bullshit. I know enough to keep her safe, but I need to hear her voice. Need to crack her open before this silence drives me insane.
She tilts her head, studying me. Then nods. Once.
“Good.” I lean back in the chair, trying for casual. “I’ll start. You said Nathan made you smaller. How?”
Her whole body tenses. She curls tighter, arms wrapping around her legs like armor.
“Specifics. What did he actually do to you?”
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens again. “Words.” Barely audible.
“What kind of words?”
