Page 37 of Striker’s Rebel

I take one more kiss.

Hard.

Deep.

Enough to make her clutch my cut again.

Then I drag myself back before I forget why I stopped.

“I want you, June.”

She stares at me, breathing hard.

“Pretty sure I figured that out.”

My mouth twitches.

“Good.”

“And if I said I want you too?”

Everything in me goes still.

Alpha instinct says take.

Put her on the bed.

Make her mine.

The part of me that spent the night outside her door wins.

I brush my thumb over her swollen lower lip.

“I’d tell you to get dressed.”

Her eyes narrow.

“What?”

“Razor first.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Been called worse.”

“You think you can kiss me like that and then order me around?”

“Was ordering you around before I kissed you.”

That stops her for half a second.

Then she glares.

There’s my girl.

My girl.

The thought hits clean and hard.