A crooked smile tips his mouth. “Damn, I thought I was being heroic. You might as well label me a madman.”
“That’s not the term I would use.”
“What would you use?”
“With the way you’re behaving right now—” I flatten my backside against the desk’s edge to escape his nearness. “I’d say your behavior is…erratic.”
He cants his head until nearly all the space between us disappears. Close enough to hear the catch of my breath, where I can taste the scent of ocean and mist clinging to his clothes. It sends a heady buzz through my bloodstream.
His eyes absorb me, trailing down to the violent pulse in my neck. “I’m not the only erratic thing in this room, Dr. Holbrook.”
I swallow reflexively, rocked beneath the hunger burning in his eyes. His hair falls across his forehead, and I resist the urge to sweep it aside. An alarm sounds, warning me to tread carefully.
He extends his hand alongside my hip, and I stop breathing, my body frozen as he reaches around and taps the keyboard of my laptop to close out the recording application.
My eyes fall closed, and a breathy curse slips past my lips. I hold back a wince as a pinch of pain tightens beneath my rib cage.
“I trust you have an ethical reason for recording me,” he says, his voice a dark rasp, summoning my gaze back to his. “Since your ethics are so incorruptible.”
I will my backbone to lock. “I like to keep detailed documentation. Especially since I’m unable to observe you properly.”
His grin is sinful as he places his knuckles on the surface of the desk, caging his body around mine. His attention drifts downward, eyes tracing a purposeful path over my throat. The bruises hidden beneath my hair flare with a throb under his sharp gaze.
Orion’s mouth stretches into that beautiful, knowing smile. “You don’t need to observe my boring routine, Collins. Do you see where I am right now? I’m not in my observatory. I’m not obsessively tracking star patterns. I’m not chasing an adrenaline rush on my bike. I’m here, with you.” His voice is an abrasive brush of friction against my skin. “Being near you is all the danger I need, angel.”
My breathing shallows, my gaze drawn to the parted collar of his shirt, where a hint of black ink teases through. Transfixed, I daringly lift my hand.
“Careful,” he warns. “Unless you enjoy being smothered, be sure that’s the move you want to make.”
My throat constricts at the threat, and my hand falls away. “This isn’t healthy,” I manage to say.
He nods slowly. “Oh, I know. It’s a sickness. I fucking dream of what your skin tastes like.”
Torrid flames lick over my skin in response, my body torn between fear and desire, the damaged parts of me blurring the line between survival instinct and shameless need.
I shiver under the fiery brand of his gaze. I’ve dared myself to imagine what it would feel like to press my lips to his, to have his body heavy over mine. While a dormant part of me is curious, may even secretly crave it—his aversion to touch was supposed to offer a barrier of protection.
Me pushing him—not the other way around.
“What I mean is,” I say, “it’s unhealthy to swap one obsession for another. That’s called transference.”
He makes a gruff sound. “It’s also unhealthy to be so damn tempting to a madman, but here we both are.”
Against my will, a wicked smile steals across my face. “Here we both are.”
With an unhurried sweep of his tongue, Orion wets his lips, sending a frisson arcing down my spine. The dare hovers like a live wire, crackling in the charged space between us.
Involuntarily, my thighs squeeze together to offset the empty ache. Like a provoked predator, Orion senses my movement, his eyes darkening.
“Fuck.” The curse drops from his mouth on a harsh breath. “So what happens now, doctor. Does this exposure therapy mean you’ll let me do things like call you baby. Tell you all the filthy ways I’ve obsessed about you. How every single time I saw you sitting on that bench, all I could fucking think about was bending you over it and spreading you wide, burying my fingers inside you.”
A shock of fear spikes my pulse. My breath catches painfully beneath my ribs as the threat of his words constricts my chest. No matter what happens now, escape isn’t an option.
My mouth opens to respond, but the words snag behind the tight knot in my throat.
“Mmm-hmm.” Orion tilts his head as he studies me, keeping his body a taut line of control. His gaze narrows, a dangerous smirk twisting his lips, like he’s won some match between us.
And my stomach dips as I realize I’ve made a wrong move.
