Page 68 of Bitter When He Begs

I lower my voice again just to see if I can make that blush come back even darker. “You’re still blushing, Sunshine.”

“Shut up,” he mutters, keeping his eyes locked firmly on the ground, refusing to look at me. “I swear to God, Luca—”

“You swear what?” I step closer, just enough that he has to feel the heat rolling off my skin, the proximity forcing him to acknowledge I’m here, right in front of him, right in his space. “That you’ll melt if I keep looking at you?”

He glares up at me again, and I love that he’s still got some fight in him, that no matter how flustered I make him, he still bites back. “I swear I will throw you into the pool.”

I grin. “You’d have to get your hands on me first.”

“You are such a—”

“—Problem?” I cut in again, grinning. “Yeah. You’ve mentioned.”

Sage groans, dragging his hands down his face like I’m the source of his migraine, but I catch the edge of his smile before he can hide it.

“What do you want from me, Luca?” he asks, quiet now, like maybe he regrets asking even as the words come out.

I take a slow breath and let the space between us thicken. “Right now? I want you to relax and enjoy the party. Maybe let me keep looking at you like that if you don’t mind.”

His lashes flutter, and then he points a finger at me without warning. “You said you were gonna stop.”

“I lied,” I say, grinning. “Besides, you’re kind of pretty.”

He looks like he’s about to combust. “I hate you.”

“You really don’t.”

“Luca—”

I cut him off by leaning in just a fraction closer, keeping my voice low. “You walked over here on your own, remember? You came to me, Sunshine.”

His breath stutters. I catch the tremble in his fingers as he balls them at his sides and then releases them as if he doesn’t trust himself to speak without giving something away.

“Stop calling me that,” he whispers, and it doesn’t sound like he means it.

I just smile. “Can’t. Name suits you.”

Sage huffs, spinning on his heel, clearly done with me, but I don’t let him leave that easily. I reach out, catching his wrist, and for a second, I think he’s going to pull away. But he doesn’t.

He freezes like he’s just as surprised as I am. My thumb brushes against the inside of his wrist, feeling the fast, unsteady rhythm of his pulse, and my chest tightens because—fuck, he’s nervous and not in a bad way.

Not like before. Not like when I was cruel to him, not like when I pushed him down just to see how far I could break him.

This is different. He’s flustered, he’s annoyed, but he’s also letting me touch him and fuck me, I don’t know who’s winning here.

He swallows hard, his voice quieter a little unsteady. “Why are you like this?”

I smile, slow and lazy, giving his wrist one last squeeze before letting go. “You bring it out in me.”

He rolls his eyes, rubbing his wrist like he’s trying to erase the feeling of me touching him, but his blush is still there.

That’s when I know I’m in so much fucking trouble.

Sage

Luca’slookingatmelike I’m his next fucking meal.

It’s unnerving because he hasn’t said a word in the last ten seconds, and yet I can feel everything in his expression. That slow, mischievous smile spreads across his face like he knows exactly how red I’m getting and he’s proud of causing it.