“Been called worse.”
The words come easy, too easy, and that scares me more than anything. I shouldn’t be teasing her. Shouldn’t be standing this close, watching the pulse beat at the hollow of her throat. Shouldn’t be wanting to take more than just her finger in my mouth.
I take a step back. “You should get some rest.”
“You’re doing it again.” She crosses her arms, chin tilting up. The motion accentuates her breasts, and my breath catches in my throat.
“Doing what?”
“Acting like you get to tell me what to do.”
I sigh, drag a hand over my jaw. “Riley, I’m not…”
“Yes, you are. You’re bossy, overprotective, and you don’t even know me.”
I bite down the sharp retort rising in my throat. She’s right. I don’t know her. But I want to. God help me, I want to know everything — what put that tremor in her voice, what she dreams about when she’s not looking over her shoulder, what kind of smile she wears on her face when she truly feels safe.
“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” I say finally.
“I don’t need saving.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“Then stop looking at me like that.”
I clench my jaw so hard my molars grind. “Like what?”
She doesn’t look away. “Like you’ve already decided I’m yours.”
Her gaze is steady and clear, not a hint of mockery, except for the daring eyebrow she raises at me, like she’s daring me to just admit it — I want to claim her for my own. The seconds drag on and she doesn’t move a muscle, like she’s not a little bit afraid. The air between us stretches taut, a tripwire primed to set off something that can’t be walked back.
I should shut it down. I should turn my back and lecture her on how it’s better if we keep things businesslike. Instead, I take one slow, measured step forward. She lets out a soft, involuntary shudder, but she holds her ground.
“You think I’m possessive, Riley?” My voice is gravel, a warning I hope she’ll heed.
She snorts, but there’s a tremor at the corners of her mouth that betrays her. “Yes. And I think you’re dangerous.”
She’s right about that. In more ways than she knows.
I’m two feet from her, and all I can think about is how her lips look ringed with whipped cream and the way her pulse jumps in her throat when I say her name. I want to press my mouth to that spot and feel the rhythm under my tongue, to taste her and take her and prove to her she’s safer with me than without, even if it’s everything I know I shouldn’t do.
I drag my hand through my hair, a rough attempt at self-control.
“I’m not a good man, Riley.”
She doesn’t flinch. In fact, her eyes soften. Some of the challenge in them folds away, replaced by warmth and a stubborn hope. “Maybe you’re not as bad as you think, Breaker.”
The words slam into me, a mixture of absolution and accusation. I want to reject them, to list all the reasons she’s wrong, but she’s looking up at me like she can see the cracks and still wants to touch the pieces.
Before I know what I’m doing, I reach out. My fingers move to her cheek, hovering for a breath before gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. I half-expect her to recoil, but she tips her head into my touch, eyes fluttering closed for a heartbeat. When she opens them, there’s nothing but clarity, and something hungry beneath it.
Every instinct in me fires a warning that this is the worst possible idea, that I am nothing more than a dangerous man built to break what she’s just barely started to rebuild.
But I can’t walk away.
I won’t.
“Tell me to stop,” I whisper, my thumb skimming the edge of her jaw. “I dare you.”
