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“No.”

“Whatdid you just say?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m tired of being careful. Being careful only brought me heartache. All my life I’ve been careful, and you know what? I’msickof it.”

With an erotic twist, she grabbed the hem of her jumper and tugged it over her head. Her plait draped down her back and the tiny white camisole she wore didn’t hide the lacy bra beneath.

Fuck.

It also didn’t hide her pebbled nipples.

“Does this count as being careful,Kite?” Nila dropped the jumper onto the desk, cupping her breasts. “Does this count as acceptable to you?”

I couldn’t breathe.

Everything I’d been running from made my head pound, my cock beg, and the drugs in my system to fucking disintegrate.

What was it about her? Why did she have this control over me? And why was I utterly, ridiculously helpless around her?

God fucking help me.

Didn’t she know the more she antagonised me and made me slip, the more likely Cut would give her to Daniel and slaughter me in my sleep? I wanted to strike her—hammer the precariousness of our situation home.

“Why did you bring me here?” she murmured, skirting the desk.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the hard pinpricks on her chest. She couldn’t be cold—not in this furnace. That meant she was turned on.

My mind instantly went to one question.Is she wet?

“Kes told you. Our secrets are now yours.”

“I don’t think that’s the only reason.” Closing the distance, she licked her bottom lip. “I think you wanted me off the estate, so you could have me without anyone seeing.” Her voice layered with sex and invitation. “You wanted me away from the cameras, so you could drop the act and show me the truth.”

Fuck.

I cleared my throat. “What truth?”

“That all of this is a lie. That you’re still the man I fell for—playing the same game you said you were sick of before I left.”

Shaking my head, I tried to clear my thoughts. “You’re once again delusional.” Swallowing hard, I ordered, “Go down to the sorting floor. I have a meeting to take care of—”

“No,” she breathed. “I’m not going anywhere until you stop being an arsehole and show me the real you.” Closing the final distance, she stood beside me, crackling with mischief and lust.

Locking eyes, she undid the button and zipper of her jeans. “Don’t hide from me, Jethro. I can’t stay strong if you cut me out.”

My legs bunched to push the swivel chair backward. One heave and I could launch myself free and run from her web. But somehow, I couldn’t. I remained tethered in place; breathing fast, fear swamping my lungs.

She grabbed my wrist. “Don’t fight it. You can’t fight the inevitable.” Without a word, she pressed my hand into her trousers.

Holy shit.

My heart catapulted through my ribcage; my jaw locked as the scratch of her lacy underwear rubbed my knuckles.

Our eyes never looked away as she guided my fingers lower. I tugged half-heartedly, trying to remember why this was wrong when it felt so fucking right.

“Don’t...” She rocked her hips, twisting my wrist so my hand cupped her wetness.

She moaned, her head falling back. Her breasts were proud, jutting out, begging for my teeth and tongue. “That’s what you were wondering, wasn't it?” She bent over me, licking the rim of my ear. “If I was wet for you?”