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One that doesn’t go unnoticed by him.
“You think I didn’t try to cut you out of me? That I didn’t try to walk away?”
He leans back enough so I can see the sneer pull on his lips. His hand slips into the loose strands of my hair, sliding up to fistthe roots in his fingers and drag my head back to look up at him. At this angle, all I can see is him, consuming me. His gaze rakes over me, from my eyes down to my lips like a caress. His jaw ticks when he tears his face back to mine and there’s no denying it.
He’s gotten attached, too.
“You and I will never be done, Hannah. You know why?” His fingers flex in my hair, pulling me closer until his lips hover over mine and I shiver. Like he’s trying to steal my dying breath. It’s just the lightest of touches, but I want more. Ineedmore. I try to move closer, to kiss him,feelhim, but he holds me in place, forcing me to face my demons head-on, rather than run from them as I always have.
His thumb runs over my lips, like he’s memorizing them. Like he’s ingraining them in his brain for later.
“Because as much as you’d prefer to tell me you hate me, little doe, you’re as obsessed with me as I am with you.”
Holy shit.
Warmth pools in my core and the dull ache that centered between my thighs turns to an incessant throb. His eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them. Like the stormy gray had turned to night. Like a man on the brink of losing control.
Suddenly, I want to see what it looks like when that control snaps.
“I would take a bullet to keep you safe, Hannah, but I can’t do anything if you don’t listen to me.”
“Mason . . .” I breathe, my voice shaky when he stoops down, nipping the line of my jaw.
I shouldn’t let myself get sucked in. It’s dangerous. Forbothof us. Mom will kill him when she finds out and the cartel may as well be bloodhounds out for my scent. Still . . . I tell myself all of this while I wrap my arms around his neck and arch myown to give him more access. I tell myself I don’t like him while I whimper at the feeling of his teeth grazing my skin. I tell myself this has gone too far, even as I beg for more.
Every nerve ending in my body goes live when he presses his face to my neck, inhaling and letting out a low sound of satisfaction.
“Tell me you hate me, little doe,” he rasps against my ear. “Tell me to let you leave.”
Ishoulddo as he tells me. Ishouldgo back home so we can both cool off. Ishoulddo a lot of things, none of them involving this man, but, even as he says it, I know it’s not true. I can’t hate Mason Carpenter any more than I can stop myself from falling for him.
I know I should. I should back away before this gets too far, save that heartache for later . . . but, when his hand on my back slips lower, cupping the bottom of my ass under the hem of my shorts, I lose track of that rational side of my brain.
“Fuck me,” I breathe, so quiet, I’m not even sure he heard it over the storm raging outside.
He pulls back to look at me, his gaze dark. “If I fuck you, Hannah, there’s no going back from this.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat at those words.
They should be enough to scare me off, but . . . for some disturbing reason, my stomach tightens at the thought.
So, I do what any sane woman would do— repeat myself.
“Fuck me, Mason.”
He leans forward, his thumb tracing the pulse point where I’m sure he can feel my heart racing. I stir under his heavy gaze. He’s looking at me in a way I’ve never been looked at before. With such soft, soul-consuming desire.
Like I’m his.
Abruptly, he leans down, nipping my bottom lip and making a low sound. Almost like he’s angry with himself for losing a hard-fought battle.
“You have no idea what you just asked for.”
His hand on my ass clenches and then he’s lifting me into his arms as if it’s easy. It’s fucking terrifying.
He carries me to the desk, depositing me on top and swiping papers and folders I know I’ll have to figure out come tomorrow morning, but I couldn’t care less. Not when he fists my hair, bringing his lips crashing against mine with a deep groan.
In a flash, he’s tugging my shirt over my head until I’m in nothing but the old bra I put on this morning. Of course, I would pick the most unsexy undergarment I own on a day like today, but he doesn’t seem to care, expertly unhooking it and tossing it to the old computer chair with the rest of my clothes.
