"Dreaming about you." My voice was shaking now, too loud in the padded quiet. "Telling myself it was research. Academic interest. The kind of obsession that wins grants and publishes papers."
A bitter laugh escaped me. "I wrote an entire book about you without ever meeting you because I was afraid of what would happen if I did."
"And what were you afraid of?"
"This." Tears burned my eyes. "Exactly this. That I would look at you and see exactly what you are—a killer, a manipulator, a monster—and want you anyway."
Rook leaned down, his face inches from mine, his breath warm against my lips. "And do you? Want me anyway?"
Say no. Say no. Say—
"Yes." The word hung between us in the white silence.
Something shifted in his expression. The patient hunger was still there, but underneath it, I saw a flash of emotion I couldn't name.
Satisfaction, maybe.
Tenderness.
And even. . .demented possession.
Like I'd given him a gift he'd been waiting his whole life to receive.
Then, he kissed me.
Not gently.
Not lovingly.
But, like a man delivering venom straight into the bloodstream.
His mouth crashed into mine with violent intent. His teeth scraped my lower lip as if he meant to break skin, to find a wound where his erotic poison could seep in.
His long, wet tongue forced its way past my defenses.
Hot.
Invasive.
Sinful.
Then, I felt it. . .the exact moment something toxic entered my system.
It tasted of him.
Dark.
Maddeningly forbidden.
Lethal.
That seductively insane-inducing kiss spread through my mouth and sank into my veins.
Thick.
Burning.
Crawling toward my brain.
