How I’d touch her slow, make her tremble, and make sure she never thought about anyone else ever again.
The thought shouldn’t be there. But it is. It’s fucking there.
Hunter shifts beside her, the movement slight, but not casual. His knee brushes hers. Willow’s breath hitches. Her perfume smells sweet in the small space.
I smirk. Because she might have let Finn kiss her, but that doesn’t mean she’s not aware of the three of us. And I think it’s time for us to try a different tactic with her.
CHAPTER 18
Willow
They sweepmy apartment as though I don’t already know what they’ll find. Nothing. Finn isn’t here. He wouldn’t be that obvious.
But that doesn’t stop them from checking every single room, closet, cabinet, window, and vent. Carson even looks under my bed.
I lean against the doorway to my hallway, arms crossed, watching them move with precision, their sharp gazes sweeping over everything, every detail accounted for.
And it hits me, this is more than just a job to them now. They’re being too thorough. Too protective. Even for bodyguards. Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe the hum under my skin isn’t thinking of them as bodyguards at all.
No, it’s thinking of all the ways I could use them. To erase the memory of Landon. To forget I let Finn kiss me. To drown out the fact that if Finn kissed me again, I wouldn’t stop him.
I press my fingers to my temples, inhaling deeply. What the fuck is wrong with me? Did Landon screw me up this badly?
I’m not sure. But tonight changed everything, for all of us. I know it. And they know it. But we are all ignoring it.
Carson keeps sneaking glances at me, caught on thoughts he won’t say out loud. I can feel the weight of them anyway. Maybe he’s wondering how I’d taste if he kissed me, and whether I’d let him.
Hunter hasn’t said a word, but he’s standing too close, while the others are searching for who knows what. Close enough that I can feel the heat coming off him, steady and quiet a fuse waiting to be lit.
And then there’s Graham.
I shift under his gaze, pulse kicking up.
He hasn’t touched me. Hasn’t said a single inappropriate thing. But the way he’s watching me? It says everything. I saw it earlier—that flicker of something hot and unspoken when I called him Daddy just to push his buttons.
Or maybe it was when I told him he wasn’t.
Either way, I saw the shift. Just for a second. And now I can’t stop thinking about it. He is definitely a dom. Heat pools low in my stomach, and I force my arms to uncross, shaking the thought away.
No.
This is not happening. I am not letting my body react to them. To any of them. Graham steps closer, and I almost take a step back. Almost.
“Finn wasn’t here,” I say, needing to break whatever this is.
Graham tilts his head, considering me.
“No,” he finally says. “But he’ll be back.”
Something about the way he says it makes my stomach flip. And I’d be okay with that.
Get it together, Willow, we do not want the stalker to come back.
I clear my throat. “I need to make a call.”
I step away from them, heading to my bedroom, awarenesszipping through my body like static electricity, a live wire waiting to snap. I need space before I do something stupid.
I yank my phone out and pull up Chad’s contact. His smirking face fills the screen, and I press call, needing the distraction, needing something to anchor me.
