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Des holds himself so still, like the slightest movement will scare me off. And now I wonder for the first time if he’s ever been insecure about my feelings for him. I assumed they were always obvious, but it’s like the two of us have held ourselves back from making that move that will expose our true feelings. I’d always assumed it was because he felt none for me. I’m no longer sure that’s true.

My thumb strokes the skin of his cheek as I kiss him.

And now we’re afraid of each other. That’s what the two of us are. Afraid of hoping when all hope’s ever done is break us. Afraid of getting exactly what we want.

And I might be wrong, Des might actually be uninterested in me despite all the signs. But I’m going to stop denying the possibility. And I’m going to stop denying my own feelings.

So after I finish kissing his throat, my hands reach for the edge of his shirt.

The Bargainer’s hands grip my upper arms, and I can feel his heated, curious gaze on me, but I ignore it.

Don’t overthink this.

I lift his shirt up, breaking away only to help him take it off.

My gaze moves to his sculpted chest. I run my fingers over his shoulder, where his tattoos taper off. His muscles flex beneath my touch.

I smooth my hands over his pecs and down his hard abs. I was wrong earlier when I said that he hadn’t changed. When I was a teenager, he would’ve never let me touch him like this.

I press my lips between his collarbones and begin trailing kisses down his sternum.

I risk a glance up at him.

Des is looking at me … he’s looking at me like I personally put up all the stars in the sky. A second later, he shutters the look.

“Callie …”

Around us, the room’s darkening. How much farther can he be pushed before his wings come out?

Better question: how much farther can I push this until the siren comes out? Already I can feel her demanding to join in. She’ll either speed us the hell up, or she’ll make good on her earlier threat to hold out on Des.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I breathe.

“I’m afraid that if I do anything, you’ll stop.” I see him swallow. “I don’t want you to stop.”

I pause to give him a shy smile, a genuine one. “I won’t,” I say, punctuating my words by pressing a kiss to his sternum.

He hisses out a breath. “You keep doing that and I’m going to cash in more favors.”

My skin lights up. The wicked grin that spreads across my mouth is all siren. “Tell me,” I say, glamour entering my voice, “have you been thinking about what I told you earlier?”

I play with the top button of Des’s pants, running a hand over his groin.

“About all those dark desires I would’vegladlyfulfilled,” I continue.

“I’ve thought about it,” he admits. He caresses my face, some of the passion in his eyes changing into something … sweeter. “I’m sorry, siren. I had to leave you, I didn’t want to.”

I frown as I unbutton the top of his pants, the siren in me not entirely sure what to make of his words. The rest of me knows he’s being genuine.

He really didn’t want to leave me.

That changes everything.

He catches my hand just as I begin to tug his pants down. “Not like this,” he says quietly.

“Still holding out on me?” I say.

“Still holding outforyou,” he corrects. His thumb brushes against my cheekbone.