Page 114 of Forbidden Empire

Her head snapped toward me, surprise flashing across her face before dissolving into laughter that echoed against the tinted windows of the SUV.

"Now? With Rhea's compound less than a mile away?"

"Yes, now," I said. "Humor me."

She studied me for a moment, then sighed. "I love flowers. I used to steal flowers from the botanical gardens when I was broke in college."

"What kind?" I asked, watching her lips part.

"Magnolias," she said, glancing out at the desert darkness. "They reminded me of something unattainable."

I committed this to memory, like coordinates on a map. "I'll remember that."

"Gardenias were what I wanted," she added. "The scent stays with you for hours."

"Planning my next gift already," I said, the corner of my mouth lifting.

"Aidon the romantic," she teased. "Who would have thought?"

"I'm not," I admitted. "I just want to know what matters to you."

"I'm an open book." She shrugged.

I gave her a look.

"What?" Her eyes widened with false innocence.

"You're a locked vault with booby traps."

"Not last night," she whispered, dropping her eyes.

I leaned over, brushing a gentle kiss across her lips.

Even in the dark, I saw the blush bloom across her cheeks. I kissed her again. And again.

Desperate, greedy, drinking her in, her taste, her mouth, her gasps swallowed into mine. This Esme, the one who spread her thighs for me, the one who let me inside, the one who still wouldn’t admit she was opening her heart even as she opened her body, I couldn’t get enough of her. Not ever.

Sure, her fiery side made my cock harder than a rock, but her softer side was going to be my undoing.

She’d changed these last few days. The hard edges of rebellion had softened, her stubbornness melting into something that looked a hell of a lot like partnership. I’d watched her in those meetings with Zeno, Thal, even Ares, holding her ground with a tenacity that would have sent a lesserwoman scrambling for the shadows. She never backed down. Not once.

I kissed her again. Couldn’t help it. She’d gone from a dream in my head to something real, solid, breathing beneath my hands.

Then her palm found my chest, a slow, careful pressure. She pushed me back, not hard, but enough.

My eyes flicked open. She was staring at me, searching, like she wanted to see what was there.

“We need to get our game face on,” she hissed, breathless. “I can’t do that with your tongue down my throat, as much as I’m enjoying it.”

“Fair enough,” I muttered, dragging myself off her.

I tore my eyes away. It was slow, brutal, like peeling flesh from bone, each inch separating with a raw discomfort that felt wrong, unnatural, desperate for more.

Having Esme close had become a habit I couldn’t shake, a need more than a preference. I wondered, not for the first time, what would happen to us when all this ended.

The thought gnawed at me. Not now. I had to stay focused. Anything less, and one of us would bleed for it. That was not fucking happening.

A sigh left me as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I dug it out, thumbed it to life, and Ares’s name flashed on the screen.