Page 28 of Grim’s Angel

Relief leaves me in a shaky breath. “Excellent observational skills.”

His fingers loosen from the table.

“Come here, Angel.”

I stand.

Grim pushes his chair back and waits while I move between his knees. Even seated, he fills the space around me.

“May I touch you?”

The question sounds different now. He is the one finding his way back, yet he gives me control.

“Yes.”

I place my palms against his jaw. Dark stubble rasps beneath my skin. His eyes close for one heartbeat, and the trust in that small surrender feels more intimate than a kiss.

“You came back quickly,” I whisper.

“You gave me something worth coming back to.”

My heart presses painfully against my ribs.

His hands settle at my hips, warm and heavy through the thin robe.

“You know I’m twenty-three.”

“The assignment included your age.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-eight.”

Fifteen years of experience separate us, and I have almost none in the place his hands are warming.

“Is that another reason you should stop?” I ask.

“I stop the moment you ask me to.” His thumbs move against my hips. “Your age means I know better than to play with what you feel.”

“Are you playing?”

His grip firms. “Nothing about wanting you feels like a game.”

“Grim.”

“Tell me to stop before I kiss you.”

“What if I don’t want you to stop?”

His gaze drops to my mouth. “Then tell me what you want.”

I have spent my life waiting for other people to tell me what I should give. Asking for something feels more frightening than refusing it.

“Kiss me.”

Grim rises.

One hand slides into my hair while the other settles against my lower back. His mouth hovers close enough that his breath warms my lips, but he leaves the final inch between us.