I feelit.
It presses against my core, firm and hard.
As though I can get away from him, I turn my cheek. It only reveals my neck—and the warmth of his mouth finds my sensitive skin there.
I steel myself against the breath that escapes me, a tremble that rinses through my whole body.
He murmurs, “An apology?”
My lashes flutter.
I find him in the window, his reflection, as he un-buries his face from my neck.
The softness of his mouth grazes along my jawline.
That lazy grin creeps back onto his face. “Would you believe it?”
The warmth of a tear rolls down my cheek. It is silent and solitary, and it curves to the corner of my mouth—right into his path.
Dray tastes it.
It lingers over his soft lips, between my flesh and his, and he pauses over it for a beat before his tongue slowly, softly trails over it—like he cherishes it.
A ball lodges in my throat, thick, and it’s choking me, choking back the tears stirring in me.
My lashes shut as his mouth brushes over mine. His hand comes up to my cheek and guides my face to align with his.
I don’t fight it.
Not this time.
I just go numb against the soft kiss pushing against my lips, like a stamp.
He murmurs, “You accept the deal as it’s offered?”
Kinder, as long as I behave.
No manhandling, as long as I don’t ask for it.
“Yes.” My voice is a whisper, and almost as soon as it comes, he’s off of me.
The loss of his hands, his mouth, his weight, his hardness, it’s coming up from the water and breathing for the first time in too long.
The air floods my lungs.
Dray stands back a step, slipping his hands into his pockets, and he watches—he waits it out.
Waits for my breaths to steady, for the tears to stop spilling silently down my cheeks. He watches, patient, as I swat at my face, then smoothen out the wrinkles on my skirt, my knees bolted together.
But when he decides the moments I’ve had are enough, he presses, “Your father, Olivia.”
That lifts my weary gaze to him.
The heat still flushes him, slight pink etchings over high cheekbones, and a faint gloss of my tears or taste on his full lips. “Tell me what issue he takes with the books.”
I notice he stands close enough that if I slip off the table’s edge, I’ll be sliding my body down his.
That keeps me planted in place.
