Page 19 of His to Control

I turn my face away from his touch. “The only game here is the one you’re creating.”

“Really?” His hand slides to my jaw, turning me back to face him. “Then that kiss was just… what? A momentary lapse in judgment?”

“It was the exception that proved the rule.”

His eyes darken. “No, Eve. It was the exception that destroyed it.”

The truth in his words stings. I straighten my spine, forcing steel into my voice. “Step back.”

“Why?” His thumb strokes my pulse point. “Because I’m right?”

“Because you’re too close.” The words come out breathier than intended.

“Too close to what?” His lips ghost across my cheek. “The truth? Or just too close in general?”

I press my palms against his chest, feeling his heart race beneath my fingers. “Both.”

He catches my wrists but doesn’t move away. “At least you’re finally being honest about something.”

The accusation in his tone snaps me back to reality. I yank my hands free. “You want honesty? Fine. This? Can’t happen again.”

“Can’t?” His smile holds no warmth. “Or won’t?”

“Both.” The word hangs between us, sharp and final.

For a moment, neither of us moves. The tension crackles, charged with unspoken challenges and barely contained desire. My lips still tingle from his kiss, a maddening reminder of how quickly control can slip away.

His dark eyes study me, searching for cracks in my resolve. I force myself to hold his gaze, even as my pulse races beneath my skin. We’ve done this before—this silent battle of wills. Eight years ago, I won. But now?

“Move.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel.

“Say please.” The corner of his mouth lifts in that infuriating smirk I remember too well.

“We’re not doing this.”

“Aren’t we?” He leans closer, and I catch another hit of his cologne. “Because from where I’m standing, we already are.”

I grip my bag tighter, feeling the outline of the notepad inside. Everything I need is right there, hidden beneath his nose. If I can just get out of here without-

“Fine.” He steps back, the movement so sudden it throws me off balance. “After you.”

I don’t trust his surrender—it comes too easily, too smoothly. But I’m not about to question my escape route. I shoulder my bag and move past him, hyperaware of every inch between us.

The walk to the door stretches endless. Each step feels like moving through molasses, my body fighting against the magnetic pull of his presence behind me. He follows so close that I can feel the heat radiating from him; his silence is more potent than any threat.

The quiet scrape of his shoes on the floor, the subtle shift of fabric as he moves—every sound sets my nerves on edge. My fingers tremble slightly as I reach for the door handle.

His hand brushes the small of my back, the touch so light I could almost convince myself I imagined it. Almost. But the fire that blazes across my skin is too real, too immediate to deny.

The gesture carries weight—possession, warning, promise. My breath catches as his fingers linger for a heartbeat too long. The message is clear: this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

The USB drive in my bag feels heavier with each step. One kiss and I’ve already risked everything. But as Remy’s presence looms behind me, I realize the real danger isn’t in what I’m hiding.

It’s in what I’ve just unleashed.

Chapter 6

The red dot of the security camera blinks at me like a mechanical eye, mocking my attempts at finding peace in this four-thousand-dollar bed.