“Yes.” Curiosity about his life pokes at me. He hasn’t offered, and I haven’t asked. It feels like the last barrier between us, and I desperately need to keep it in place, at least a little longer.
Sleeping next to him the last few nights, allowing him to dote on me, absorbing his unique perspective of the world, all of it leaves cracks in my otherwise thick forcefield. I want to touch him, allow him to touch me.
And god, do I want to kiss him.
That mouth of his is sin.
But I already know the danger waiting on the other side. The minute I allow it, he’ll make it his mission to consume what’s left of me. Specter isn’t casual about anything he does, and definitely not about his devotion to me. I used to think he was nothing but intense talk, but he never wavers. He wants me.
And that scares me.
What would it be like to feel the full devotion of a man like him? Giving him my body is easy enough, but he wants so much more than that. He wants all of me.
“You aren’t alone,” he says, breaking into my thoughts.
“I know.”
“The guys made breakfast. I thought it might be good to go down and introduce you to them. Phantom thinks I’m holding you hostage.”
“You’re not?” I smile to soften my teasing.
He shrugs. “It’s a fine line.”
He’s unbothered by his intensity. Unashamed of his desire for me.
“That’s fine. I’ll meet your murder buddies.”
Specter flinches. “Please don’t call them that to their faces.”
“Why? Would they kill me?”
“No, they’d change our group chat name to it.” He rises and takes slow and measured steps toward me. “No one will ever hurt you. Not here. Not anywhere. I need you to understand that.”
I nod. “I’m starting to.”
“Good.” He brushes his fingers across my cheek so slightly I almost don’t feel it. “It’s healing.”
“Concealer will hide it now.”
He cradles my face in his large hand, tilting my head back slightly. He’s close enough to kiss me, and for once, I don’t feel the urge to run, say something snarky, or otherwise put distance between us. But Specter doesn’t kiss me. No. He searches my eyes, his own gaze with unspoken words and emotions that twist through me like a tornado.
“Let’s go eat.”
He drops his hand and my breath hitches. Dammit. He’s totally getting under my skin and there doesn’t seem to be a damn thing I can do about it.
I pause for a moment, torn about the desire to hide my face behind makeup, but honestly my belly is growling and I don’t have the energy right now.
“Okay.”
Specter’s hand moves to my lower back and the whole thing feels very domestic for a few minutes. I like him in the morning like this, when his guard is down, his warm breath fanning the back of my neck, his incredible physique on display.
Yesterday I accidentally bumped into him and his morning wood brushed against my ass. I had to bite back a moan and fight the urge to turn around and fully see what he’s working with. I’m so horny at this point, I could crawl out of my skin, but I know that once I allow him to touch me, that’ll be it. He’ll never stop, and I don’t know how to handle that.
“I need to get back into my stretching routine,” I announce softly as we descend the stairs.
“What is it?”
“It’s a combo of ballet and Pilates. My muscles feel a little stiff after not doing it for a few days.”
