Page 17 of Coal Hearts

I positively hated that my nipples pebbled; my core clenched on phantom need.

Surrender?

To him?

No way.

Never.

Not when the very foundation of my life shuddered like quicksand beneath my feet.

Whoever he was, he wasn’t delusional or dangerous. He was a demon and death all in one and I needed to run.

Balling my hands, I yanked my arm. Not that it made a shred of difference. “Let me go—”

“No.” His nose nuzzled against my neck, inhaling deeply as if he wanted every spritz of my rose-quartz-and-freesia-infused perfume to soak into his lungs. “I told you, I can’t. I wish I’d never set eyes on you. I wish you didn’t exist. I wish...merde, it doesn’t matter what I wish.”

“I’m going to scream.” I leaned away, but he merely wound an arm around my back, pinning me to him.

I shivered against my will. “I’ll do it.”

He groaned as if my threat turned him on. “But I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“You’re holding me.”

“And you feel so damn breakable. So fucking good.”

“I can still hit you. Hurt you.”

“Do it and I won’t be able to stop what I do in return, Ily.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Stop using my name. It’s not yours to use.”

“Mine’s Henri. Now you know what to scream.”

My mouth hung open at his audacity.

My heart tripped over his words.

And my body...good lord, my body betrayed me.

I was wet.

Tingly.

Confused.

Who the hell is this man?

Terrified nausea roiled, churning with desperation to get far, far away. “Look, Henri...I’ve had enough. This has gone on long enough and—”

“It’s only just begun.” He bent from his tall height, pressing his nose to mine. “I’m truly sorry, you know. So fucking sorry—”

“Sorry for what?” Sam snapped, his hand still locked around the envelope of cash. “What the fuck are you two whispering about?”

The deafening music returned.

The humidity of many dancers.