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His fingers slide higher, until they sink beneath the edge of my skirt. My entire body jolts. His palm settles hot against the bare skin above my lace stockings, and when his hips shift forward, I feel the hard length of him through our clothes. Well-endowed. Definitely a shower.

I arch closer. Gage makes a rough sound against my mouth. For one glorious second, he creeps another inch higher and finds me wet.

Then he freezes. I whimper. His breathing is ragged. Mine is worse.

“Fuck.” His forehead touches mine.

I rock against him, sensing the hunger moving through him.

“Jules.”

“What?”

His eyes close. “Trust me when I tell you how much this is wrecking me. But no.”

The heat rushing through me crashes straight into embarrassment. I start lowering my leg, and his grip tightens immediately. “Hey. No. It’s not like that.”

I avoid his gaze, trying to control my breathing and my flaming cheeks while strangling the handles of the paper bag.

Gage cups my jaw and turns my face back to his. “That was a fucking spectacular first kiss.”

The sting in my throat arrives. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Twelve hours ago, you killed a man who was trying to assault you.”

“And?”

His brows shoot upward. “And?”

“We bonded over it.”

A strangled laugh escapes him. “That is possibly the most unhealthy argument anyone has ever made for me putting my hand farther up your skirt.”

I glare, but my mouth twitches. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.” He eases my leg down but doesn’t step away. He holds my waist, keeping me against him without pinning me.

“You were there when it mattered,” I say quietly. “You didn’t look at me like I was disgusting. You didn’t panic. You didn’t send me away while I was falling apart.” My throat tightens. “You stayed. And you let me help.”

“Jubilee.”

“You texted me.”

He drags a palm down his face. “Because I needed to know you were okay.”

“You asked me on a date.”

“Because I wanted to see you again.”

I frown. “Then stop acting like I don’t know what I want.”

His jaw works. “I believe you want me.” His thumb brushes my waist through my thin shirt. “Believe me, sweetheart. I just don’t trust the timing yet.”

Ugh. He has to be honorable, too? Rude. A menace to my senses.

The wind whips one of my bow ribbons across his chest. Gage catches the end, studying it before he faces me again. “I’m not saying I don’t want this.”

“Your dick already submitted supporting evidence.”