chapter 7

“I thought it was a g–g, nothing.” She flushes and stutters before losing her words.

I place the journal on the bedside table and rise, move closer to her. “You thought it was a gun,” I say, “yet you still let me come to your room. Sit on your bed. Talk about what I want.” Now I’m in front of her, and her legs are within reach.

“I–It was a mistake,” she says quickly, laughing under her breath. “I thought you were Mafia or something.”

“Why?” I lean in,“You hate Mafia?”

Her eyes dart to my lips. She licks hers, and something sharp and fast sparks inside me. “They’re just... scary.”

I touch her leg. “Are you scared?”

She shakes her head, then holds her breath, and nods. “A little. I don’t want to get hurt.”

“If I wanted to hurt you,” I say, my hand trailing up the curve of her leg, fingertips brushing along smooth skin to the hem of her dress, “I would’ve done it already. You made it so easy.”

She shivers. Her leg shifts toward me, almost unconsciously, like it wants more of my touch. She’s responsive. I like that.

But why am I doing this? I could have any woman I want, if a woman is what I wanted. So why the hell am I still here, still talking, still touching this naive little foreign thing, trying to convince her to let me in?

“Now,” I say, eyes locked on hers, “what else is holding you back?”

She inches closer, gaze steady. “I just broke up with my boyfriend,” she says it like she can’t even hear herself. “I’m very vulnerable right now.”

“So?” I raise a brow.

“So I shouldn’t.”

“Then tell me to leave.”

My hand leaves her leg and clamps around her hip. I grip the chair and drag her closer until there’s barely space between us. “You haven’t told me to leave yet. Say it now.”

It’s a warning. A mercy. Something I don’t usually offer. I take when I want, leave when I’m done. But this time, I’m trying to give the little bunny an out. A sardonic smile curves my mouth. Maybe I’m offering her what no one ever gave me.

She opens her mouth, nothing comes. She groans instead. “This isn’t who I am,” she mutters. “I don’t bring hot guys to hotel rooms and have sex with them. I’m better than this.”

I chuckle, amused by her self-hype. She groans again, hearing it. “But you’re so hot, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance again.”

“You’re very honest,” I say. It’s a relief. I hate dishonest people. My tolerance for them is zero. I’ve put down more than I can count just to remind them that loyalty and honesty are my lines in the sand.

“It’s not honesty,” she murmurs, giving me a look like I just insulted her. “It’s just desperation. Plain and simple.”

I watch her lips. Pink. Full. Too pretty. I want to taste them. Which is irrational, because I don’t like kissing.

“Let me kiss you,” I say plainly.

Her eyes widen. She licks her lips, a nervous action, and I track the motion with my eyes. “A kiss should be enough to pay for my time.”

She shifts. Nods. Then just sits there, stiff as a board, like she expects me to lean in, close my eyes, and peck her like some rom-com idiot.

Instead, I drag her off the chair and into my lap. We tumble onto the bed, the springs groaning under our weight.

She squeals, plants her hand on my chest.

“You said just a kiss.”

I smile down at her, our legs tangled now. She’s not going anywhere. “That’s what I plan to do.”

She frowns, glancing at the tight space between us, then shakes her head. “We don’t need to be this close to kiss.”

“I don’t know who’s been kissing you,” I say, eyes drifting across her flushed face, “but they’ve been doing it wrong.”

She opens her mouth to speak. I cut her off with my lips. I catch those full, soft, pink lips in a searing kiss. It’s gentle at first. Careful. Nothing special. Until she moans.

The sound is obscene, a deep needy breath, and it vibrates through my mouth straight to my cock. It detonates something inside me.

Hunger. Intense. Endless. Like I’ve never wanted a kiss before. Like I’ve never known want. The kiss shifts, from exploring to devouring.

My tongue dives deep into her mouth. Her arms wrap around my shoulders, fingers threading through my hair as she gives in completely. Little shivers run through her body, stirring my hunger.

I kiss her harder. I force it. Her lips bruise beneath mine and it’s still not enough. She tastes addictive in the worst possible way.

I pull back, meaning to end it. Leave. Walk out and never look back. But she chases my mouth. And I crack.

I fall on her again, punishing her lips, sucking her in like I need her to breathe.

She clings to me when I try to pull away.

It was supposed to be me locking her in. But it feels like she’s locking me in.

I tear myself from her, barely. Her teeth catch my lower lip on the way out. It stings. I rub the spot, and when I pull my fingers back, there's blood. My cock pulses.

What a feral little bunny. I thought she was sweet. Innocent. But she’s wild and dangerous.

She’s glassy-eyed from one kiss. Pins hang loose in her hair, red strands tumbling around her flushed face. She looks wrecked. And it shoots her beauty through the fucking roof. She looks like something I want to ruin.

Fuck. I need to get out of here.

“Are you leaving?” she asks as I climb off the bed.

I can’t look at her. If I do, I’ll crawl right back on top of her and fuck her into this cheap mattress. I won’t stop. Not till morning.

I don’t have time for this. I don’t have room for this kind of distraction.

“I thought you wanted me to leave,” I say, voice clipped. But I look anyway.

She starts to rise. The hem of her dress hikes up her thighs. I swallow hard.

“I’ll see you off,” she says, stepping closer. Her chest heaves. One breast is nearly spilling out of that damn neckline.

My fingers twitch. I want them in my hands. On my face. In my mouth. Control slips. I’m losing it.

I wrench the door open, too fast, too rough. I’m almost angry. This woman, this bunny, drags out cravings I thought were dead. Desires I swore I wouldn’t feel again. And it’s the worst part, because she can’t take it.

But she grabs my arm. I stop. She’s still holding me. Her face is flushed, lips parted, and the hallway light spills over her like a spotlight.

“Can I give you one more kiss for the road?” she asks. Then she does it. She presses her mouth to mine, soft, shaking, hungry.

It wrecks my last thread of control. I grab her waist, yank her to me, lift her clean off the ground. The door slams shut behind us.

I’m going to break this little bunny.