Page 69 of Bitter When He Begs

I’m already warm from the sun, but my skin feels like it’s humming from something else entirely. From him. From the way his eyes linger on my mouth a little too long, then sweep up to my eyes and hold there.

“You’re staring,” I murmur under my breath, heart thudding so hard I’m sure he can hear it. “Again.”

His grin deepens, completely unbothered. “You gonna stop me?”

I don’t answer; he knows I won’t.

I also don’t want him to stop looking at me.

That fact alone should terrify me, but right now, it just makes the heat crawling up my neck intensify. It’s him, it’s always him,and maybe some part of me is sick for liking this—for liking the attention, for liking the way he undresses me with his eyes without even pretending not to.

He steps in just a little closer, closing the already too-small distance between us, his eyes drifting to my hair where it hangs loose around my face. Before I can react, his fingers are in it—brushing it back gently, twisting one lock between his thumb and forefinger.

“I like it long,” he says, his voice soft in a way that makes my knees feel like they might give out.

My mouth opens, but I don’t know what to say to that because no one’s ever said something so simple and made it sound like a goddamn confession.

I blink up at him, meeting his gaze.

And fuck.

We’re too close. Our bodies are not touching, but the air between us is different now. Tight. Pulled like a string on the verge of snapping.

Luca’s hand drops from my hair, but he doesn’t move back. His eyes are locked on mine and we’re just there, caught in that dangerous moment where I can’t tell if I’m supposed to move or if he will.

His breath brushes against my cheek, his lips part slightly like he’s about to speak but doesn’t.

I think he’s going to kiss me.

God, I want him to kiss me.

Then an arm drops around my shoulders and the moment shatters. “What are we talking about?”

I jump, my entire body going stiff as Damien pulls me in, all relaxed and familiar, like he’s done this a million times before, like the last time we were this close, he wasn’t fucking me into his mattress.

Luca’s entire face changes. His jaw tightens, his eyes darken, and that easy smirk slips just a fraction, like a crack splitting through his controlled image.

And Iknow.

I know what he’s thinking about. I know what memory just slammed into his brain. I know exactly what he sees when he looks at Damien’s arm draped over me.

He’s thinking about the night Damien fucked me. The night I made sure he knew about it.

Luca exhales slowly, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip like he’s biting back something. Then, so casually it almost feels rehearsed, he says, “I’m gonna grab a drink.” And then he walks away.

Damien barely has time to react before I shove him off me, scowling as I put some much-needed space between us.

“Thanks for ruining the moment,” I mutter, adjusting my glasses as I try to shake off the feeling of almost kissing Luca, of almost crossing that line again, of almost letting myself fall back into whatever the hell this thing between us is.

Damien blinks at me, confused for a solid three seconds, before realization finally dawns on his face. His brows lift slightly, his eyes flicking toward where Luca just walked off, and then back to me.

“Oh, shit,” he cringes, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thatwas a moment, wasn’t it?”

I cross my arms, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “No, Damien, I shoved you off me because I love the feeling of being interrupted when I’m about to do something incredibly stupid.”

He grins sheepishly. “Hey, I was just saying hi,” he defends, holding up his hands. “Didn’t know I was cockblocking.”

I scowl. “You weren’t—” I pause, breathing out a sigh. “It’s fine.”