“Okay.” He touches a gentle kiss to my forehead. Then he turns toward the stairs.
“Hayden?” I call out before he can disappear.
He pauses, glancing over his shoulder.
I give him a coy smile, nibbling on my lower lip. “What if I break my promise and get myself off?”
His eyes darken, and he stalks back toward me slowly. Deliberately. Like a predator who knows exactly how this ends.
Without breaking eye contact, he turns the volume down on the monitor. Then he grips my hair, forcing my head back, firm and controlled.
My god… This man.
For someone who hadn’t had sex in over a year before last night, he has some serious game.
“If you do,” he says quietly, his mouth hovering just shy of mine, “you’ll be punished.”
My heart pounds so hard I’m confident it’s about to burst out of my chest.
“Promise?” I whisper.
His hold tightens, just enough to remind me he’s in control of this moment.
Of me.
“Absolutely.” His breath brushes over my lips, warm and slow, and I swear I can taste him in the air between us. My entire body is strung tight, every nerve ending waiting for impact.
The space between us feels heavy and charged. I can see the faint stubble along his jaw, the way his pupils have blown wide, the slight flare of his nostrils like he’s breathing me in.
The restraint is exquisite torture.
His thumb brushes lightly along my scalp, almost soothing, completely at odds with the way he’s holding me, my body humming with anticipation so sharp it’s almost painful.
“You have no idea how hard it is not to kiss you right now,” he murmurs, voice low, almost reverent.
“Then kiss me.”
His nose grazes mine, and I brace for the crash of his mouth against mine.
But instead of closing the distance and giving me what I’m silently begging for, he releases my hair.
The loss of contact is immediate. Cool air where his warmth was. Space where his body had mine caged in.
I sway forward slightly before placing my hand on the counter to steady myself.
He steps back like a man who knows exactly what he’s doing.
Like a man who understands the power of anticipation.
He lets his gaze drag over me — slow, heated, promising. Then he turns, leaving me alone in the kitchen.
I stare at the space where he just was, my heart racing.
It’s official.
This just became the longest day of my life.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
