Page 60 of Ruthless Enforcer

He closes his eyes for a second, like he’s praying to some higher power. Then he opens them, his eyes searching mine, dark and unreadable. "You've never done this before."

It's not a question, and I’m not quite sure I understand what this is.

"Never been with a man," he clarifies before I can ask.

My face flushes from more than the hot water. "No."

"Never been touched? Ever?"

“No.” I shake my head. Then I wince. “Well, one time, but it doesn’t count.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was fourteen and he was my father’s friend.” The look on Gabriel’s face makes me hurry to explain. “Uncle James interrupted and nothing happened. And in the end it’s what led me to become an artist, because James put me in art therapy to process my feelings.”

“Who was this man?” Gabriel asks with a level of calm that feels distinctly homicidal.

“Was?” I frown. “He’s still living.”

“Not for long.”

I swallow. The look in his eyes tells me he isn’t joking. I should probably be more disturbed than I am. What is it about a man who’d burn the world for you? “Anyway, no, I haven’t been with anyone.”

He makes a low sound in his throat, his gaze dropping to my mouth before returning to my eyes. "Then you need to understand something, Clara. If I touch you, it's not casual. It's not temporary. It's not something I can take back."

My heart starts pounding in my chest. "I'm not asking you to take it back."

"You don't know what you're asking."

"I know exactly what I'm asking." I’ve thought about it for ten years.

"Do you?" His voice is soft, edged with shadows. "You're playing with something dangerous.”

"So are you."

His grin is slow, wicked, and absolutely devastating. "Yeah, Duchess. I really am."

Then he moves closer, slow and deliberate, until he's sitting across from me with his arms stretched along the edge of the tub. The steam curls between us. His thigh brushes mine under the water, and the contact sends a jolt of heat straight through my body.

And that’s it. He holds himself there, not making any more of a move.

I don’t either. I like this too much. If this is as far as we go tonight, I’m going to soak it all in.

So we stay like that, suspended in the steam and the sound of the ocean crashing below, close enough to feel each other but not touching, both of us understanding that the next move could change everything.

And neither of us willing to make it.

Yet.

50

GABRIEL

I’m wearing boxer briefs but I can still feel the water licking at my cock like it’s Clara’s tongue.

I keep my hands gripping the side of the Jacuzzi. If I move them, it won’t be my dick that I grab.

The water hides just enough of her to make my imagination vicious. Her red hair is piled on her head, held by a paintbrush, wet tendrils clinging to her shoulders. Her breasts rise and fall above the waterline, and I catch glimpses of her hard nipples just below the surface.