Page 127

“Is this what you wanted to do, growing up?” Her eyes are narrowed, that intelligent focus all homed in on me.

I have to fist my hands at my sides to keep from touching her. She needs this. I’ve waited this long. I can wait longer.

I exhale.

“Yes. I wanted to save the world. I wanted to help people. It didn’t turn out like I wanted, like I expected. But I like to think I’ve made a little bit of difference.” My voice breaks a little, and I step towards her. The curve of her breast rises as she inhales, her breath coming faster.

Good. I want her to want me as much as I need her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were discharged from the Marines?”

“I wasn’t. Not really. I left because they didn’t trust me anymore, not after Fiona.” It doesn’t even hurt to say her name, not like it used to. “I didn’t think you needed to know.”

The scent of lemongrass and vanilla curls off of June, intoxicating.

Every fiber of my being wants to throw her down on the bed and rip the fabric of that dress straight off her, watch her flush red as I fuck every last bit of hesitation out of her.

“Pierce is just the tip of the iceberg, isn’t he?”

She’s brilliant, the way her mind works, how she pieces together information quickly and with only a few details.

“Yes.” I can’t help myself. I run a rough hand down her side, my callouses catching on the fine silky weave of the gown. “You look incredible. Youareincredible.”

She blushes again, and I’ll never get tired of bringing that color to her cheeks.

I want to do it every day, as long as she lets me.

“Ask me anything.” My other hand reaches her hair, where she’s shaped it into loose curls.

It’ll look damned good against the white pillows while I make her come, again and again.

I make myself wait.

The distance between us is nothing. We breathe the same air, both our chests rising and falling rapidly.

Standing.

Waiting.

I’m not sure who will break first.

“Dean?”

“Yes?” I pin her with my gaze, letting my need show.

“How hungry are you?”

Hope wells, followed by a surge of pure lust.

“Depends on what’s on the menu.” I meant it as a joke, trying and failing to maintain control. Her face falls though, and she looks down. “Are you hungry?”

“I had a sandwich. On the cutter.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” I can be fucking patient. Her needs come first. Always.

“Do you think we could order room service?” Eyes heavy-lidded, she steps closer, putting her hands against my chest, her thumbs somehow finding my nipples. I groan as she rubs against them. “Later?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes, June.”