Page 35

Grace

The ride back to headquarters was borderline painful.

The silence between them was always a balm to his chaotic mind, but not this time.

His eight courses of food churned in the pit of his stomach as they exited the vehicle and rode the elevator to their floor.

Mirage trailed far behind him, too far. He wasn’t on his heels where he was supposed to be.

Grace stopped and spun on Mirage, his calm demeanor now silent anger.

“ Don’t do that.”

Mirage stuck his chin out. “Don’t do what?”

Grace gripped Mirage by his throat—enough to stress his frustration but not enough to hurt—and pushed him back against the wall.

Passion coursed through Grace’s veins as he pinned Mirage’s body under his.

His cock hardened in agony-infused bliss as heat spread through his groin like wildfire.

Mirage’s lashes lowered and shielded half of his gorgeous eyes as numerous emotions Grace couldn’t interpret flashed across the surface.

Mirage could’ve gotten out of the hold, but he didn’t remove Grace’s palm from his throat.

Grace was frozen in the moment. His partner’s exquisiteness rendered him speechless.

For the first time in years, he didn’t know what the fuck to do.

As he gazed down on Mirage, a rush of ache and longing seized him, unfamiliar feelings, forbidden to a Raven.

Their faces were inches apart, tension saturating the air as he found himself drawn to Mirage’s irresistible strength and intelligence.

Grace was so close he could smell the lingering caramel and sugar from dessert on Mirage’s breath.

This was a dangerous game he was playing.

He kept one hand against Mirage’s rapid pulse while he raised the other, shaking one to his partner’s face. Grace hovered there for a long, confusing moment before he gently touched Mirage’s cheek.

The simple contact made nerves spark and shoot up his arm.

The dusting of short, fine, dirty-blond hairs felt like soft whispers beneath his fingertips.

The subtle hint of ruggedness added masculinity to Mirage’s otherwise polished features.

You are so damn handsome.

Grace teetered on the edge of a cliff, torn between duty and longing. A battle between a raven and its prey warring in the same intimate space.

While he traced the outline of Mirage’s jaw, goodness, compassion, and warmth encased Grace’s soul.

Will feeling this way really distract me from my job?

His heart lodged in his throat as he inched lower, tracing the gentle curve of Mirage’s bottom lip with his thumb.

He knew it would feel as tender and supple as it looked.

He lifted his gaze back to Mirage’s eyes and got so lost that it scared him.

And nothing scared Grace.

His partner’s breath was labored, and Mirage parted his lips as if he were about to speak.

But before he could, Grace released him and escaped into his apartment.

He slammed and bolted the door as if it would keep those defiant feelings out there and out of reach.