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“What are we cooking?”

“Soup.”

“I like soup.”

“Too bad if you didn’t.”

The matter-of-fact way he says it makes me smile. I reach for Lynx’s arm to tug him back to face me, and the way his gaze flies to my touch like I’ve burned him would be funny if it didn’t hint at something deeper. Something obviously made him into this hypervigilant, touch-averse human suit of anxiety, and it’s burning my curiosity not to know. Asking outright will get me nowhere, but I’m determined to get my answers. “Say I just want to keep you safe, Sasha.”

“I just want you to keep yourself safe, Sasha.”

Ooof. Him saying my name is so hot. “We’ve been over this. I do keep myself safe.”

His immediate response is to scowl, which is exactly what I knew he’d do. The way I can read him so easily is a gift, and I don’t know why Lynx is acting so opposed to wanting me, but he does. I can feel it in my gut every time those hazel eyes burn as they run over me, constantly tugged away and magnetized back to any hint of bare skin.

I study the exasperated look on his face. “You still don’t believe me, do you?”

“I know you think you can look after yourself and that sometimes it works, but it’s not foolproof. It’s not actual protection. You get lucky.”

“Lucky.” He almost makes me laugh.

“Now I know your game, it has no effect on me.”

Saying that is like Lynx begging me to prove him wrong. I wonder if he actually believes it or if that’s him trying to convince himself, because from where I’m standing, he’s not even putting up a fight. My hand is still gently holding his arm, and his whole body is bowed toward me, like a tree that’s been broken by the wind.

“Sit down, Lynx.”

Those assessing eyes narrow. “Why?”

“Because I want to prove something.”

“Which is?”

“How well I protect myself.” I take a tiny, calculated step closer and drop my voice. “Even when you know exactly what it is I’m doing.”

“You think you can seduce me.”

“I know I can.”

His head moves slowly from one side to the other. “That’s not protection. That’s making yourself vulnerable.”

“There’s only one way for us to find out who’s right.”

Slowly, my hand moves from his forearm, up the tight curl of his bicep, before reaching his shoulder. Then, with the slightest pressure, I have him back up. Step by step, I mirror him until we reach the chair.

Lynx knows what I want him to do, but we’re locked in a stare-off, and the minutes tick by. My heart is racing, knowing how close I am to him folding, and the fact that I can get away with standing only inches from his tightly coiled body is doing more for my excitement than a roller coaster ever could.

This is what living feels like.

Because I know that Lynx wants me, but right now, I have no clue if he’s going to give in or shove me into a wall, and it’s the uncertainty that has my dick hardening.

There’s a real clash of wills going on behind his eyes, so before either side can win, I give him a single, whispered order.

“Sit.”

His resistance lasts another few seconds, and then … he slowly lowers himself onto the chair.

Giving me permission to continue.