Page 54 of The Sweetest Return

For a second, the whole room put a different thought between us.

The Nocturne.

Her room.

Somewhere with a door.

She knew it.

I knew she knew it.

And neither one of us said it.

My hand flexed once at her back before I made myself let go. The restraint cost me enough that my jaw ached.

“I was about to leave before you walked in,” I said.

She blinked, like she needed a second to come back to the safer part of the conversation. “Were you?”

“Yeah.”

“And now?”

Now I wanted to follow her anywhere she let me. I wanted every year I missed from her mouth. I wanted to know how many niggas asked about the man behind the tattoo over her heart, and how many lied like it didn’t bother them.

I wanted to know how much of me she remembered.

My hands.

My mouth.

My dick.

The one she used to act like belonged to her because, if I was being honest, it did.

I wanted too much for a man standing in public.

I swallowed the rest.

No sense standing in Royal House telling her my mind had already followed her back to The Nocturne.

So I gave her the truth I could say.

“Now I’m trying not to ask for what I want.”

Her breath shifted.

“And what do you want?”

My jaw tightened.

Wrong question.

Or maybe exactly the right one.

I let my eyes touch her mouth, then the place where my name still sat over her heart.

“Not here.”