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She tastes like vodka and rebellion, like a sin I’ve already committed a thousand times in my mind but never in reality. I should stop. I know that. But my body never listens to reason when it comes to Freya.
Suddenly, she pulls away.
Her breath comes in short, sharp gasps, her eyes blazing as she stares at me. I reach for her instinctively, my fingers brushing her wrist to pull her back to me, to continue the kiss that I can still taste on my lips.
But before I can bring her close again, her palm cracks sharply across my cheek.
The slap isn’t gentle—it’s forceful and reverberates through my skull, freezing me in place. For a moment, the world slows to a stop, and we just stare at each other, both stunned by what just happened.
Her eyes widen with raw confusion flickering behind them. As if the slap wasn’t just meant to snapmeout of something.
It was meant to rip her from wherever her head just went, too.
Freya’s breath hitches, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and for a heartbeat, we’re caught in that place between rage and desire. Then she whirls around, storming out of the small bathroom and quickly disappearing into the hallway that leads back to the VIP area.
I’m faster.
I’m on her in seconds, catching her wrist and yanking her back toward me. Her wide, wild eyes meet mine, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from pinning her against the wall and devouring her. I can’t think, can’t focus. I’m drowning in everything Freya always brings out in me—anger, desire, guilt—and none of it makes sense.
She yanks her arm back but I hold firm, my grip tightening, keeping her close.
“What thefuckare you doing here?!” she spits, her voice shaking with a mixture of fury, shock, and alcohol.
“We’re nottalkingabout me,” I snarl. “We’re talking about whatever the fuck was going on in there with that fucking prick!” I jab a finger at the restroom.
She gapes at me. “Did you seriously fly from Japan just to make sure another man wasn’t touching me?!”
Maybe.
Probably.
Yes.
But I don’t respond. I just step closer, my towering presence swallowing the space between us. I can still feel the heat of her anger radiating off her skin, but behind it, there’s something more. Something vulnerable.
“You disappeared,” she continues, her voice cracking. “You just walked away without a word. Not one text, not one call.Nothing. And now you show up out of nowhere like—like Ibelongto you?!”
My jaw clenches, and I step even closer, pushing her against the wall. I’m losing control, and I know it. But she’s pushing me to the brink, and the raw emotion in her voice is like pouring gasoline on a fire.
“You don’t get to do that!” she screams. “You don’t get to come back and act like everything is fine. Like you didn’t just abandon me. Like what happened between usdidn’t mean anything!”
Her voice breaks, and something inside me stirs awake. Her words are dismantling the walls I’ve spent years building around myself, brick by brick.
Everything between us meant something.
Still does.
I want to say it. The words are hovering on the tip of my tongue, but they don’t come. Instead, I just step closer, my body caginghers against the wall, my hands sliding down to rest on her hips. She’s trembling, but she doesn’t try to escape.
“I left because I had responsibilities, Freya,” I growl. “To the Yakuza, and my family.”
Her chest heaves with the force of her emotions as she stares up at me, her lips parted in shock. My hands tighten on her hips, pulling her closer until our bodies are almost flush against each other.
“Why now?” she whispers, her voice unsteady. “Why come back here now? To—what, prove you can still control me? Prove that I still belong to you?”
One of my hands darts out to grab her hip, pinning her to the wall. The other wraps around her throat.
Not hard, but enough to turn her face crimson and set a tantalizing fire blazing in her eyes as my thumb strokes her pulse point.
