Page 28 of Lennox Lane

“Lennox.”

He laughed, then sobered because she deserved that too. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you.”

“You were getting there.”

“In your dreams,” her eyes rolled.

“Frequently.”

Her eyes narrowed as the tension shifted because it was never that simple with them. It crackled hotter than ever. Lane in orange sequins made him want to peel her clothing off and drink every drop of her that he could squeeze from between her thighs. He was close enough to smell her perfume and remember every promise made in St. Barts, sitting between them like a lit match. Lennox looked at her mouth because he had poor impulse control when it came to Lane Sanders. He forced his eyes back to hers because he was trying to be slightly less of a menace.

The buzz of her phone snapped them back to reality. Lane didn’t look at it, but Lennox did.

“I blocked the number,” he said. “That’s a new one.”

She glared. “How do you know that?”

He gave her a look.

“Right,” she said. “Cyber demon.”

“She’s scared,” he let her know.

“Jeanette?” Lane asked.

“Yes.”

Lane laughed without humor. “Good.”

“Her trifling ass should be,” he agreed.

“Careful, Lennox. You’re about to say something that makes me like you.”

His gaze held hers. “Would that be so bad?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” He needed to know.

“Because I have taste.”

He smiled. “You also have me.”

Her mouth dropped open at his audacity. “I know you did not.”

“I did.”

“You are not mine.”

“I can be, say the word,” he spoke seriously.

The air tightened again, and Lane’s eyes dropped to his mouth before she caught herself. There it was; Lennox felt it like a hand around his throat. She could be furious about how things ended between them, but her body remembered him.

“Get out of my car,” she said.

“No.”