Page 22

22

CONNOR

I knew the second she gave in to me, she’d wake up and lose her goddamn mind.

Now, I’m watching it happen in real time.

She’s so deep in her head she doesn’t notice me watching.

As she dresses, she mutters to herself, totally unaware she’s doing it because she’s too busy freaking the fuck out.

Her panic builds by the second.

Her cheeks are flushed. Her energy frantic.

Her whole body screams What have I done? without saying a word.

Then she spots herself in the mirror. Her eyes widen as she takes in the marks I left on her skin. Her swollen lips. Her wrecked hair.

She looks like a goddess.

She runs her hands through her tangled hair like that’ll undo it all.

I move, and she freezes.

Her wide eyes snap to mine. A wild, unhinged look in their depths.

“Morning, wife."

Her face combusts.

I smirk.

She doesn’t even realize what she’s done.

“You look fucking beautiful in my shirt."

Her head drops, eyes moving to her shirt. Her whole body goes still.

“Oh, shit,” she mutters, squeezing her eyes shut.

She takes a breath, trying to collect herself, but her gaze darts away like she can’t stand to look at me.

“I need to shower," she blurts out, then makes a beeline for the bathroom.

I’m out of bed in two strides, catching her wrist before she can close the door.

“Where you running off to, sweetheart?" I murmur.

She glares. "I’m not running."

I arch a brow. "Really? 'Cause you look like you’re about to flee the country."

She yanks her wrist free and crosses her arms like a shield. “This was a mistake.”

I grin. "Oh yeah?"

She’s not getting away with that weak-ass excuse.

I step forward. "Then prove it."

She backs up.

I follow.

She retreats until she’s pressed against the bathroom counter.

I brace my hands beside her, caging her in.

Her breath hitches. Her hands tremble as they press lightly against my chest.

“You wanna pretend this meant nothing?" I whisper.

She nods, the movement too fast. "Y-yeah."

But her body tells the truth, unlike her mouth.

I smirk. "Then prove it."

She frowns. "What?"

I dip my head, letting my lips graze her ear. "If it was a mistake," I murmur, "kiss me and prove you feel nothing."

She stiffens.

I wait her out.

She knows exactly what I’m doing. Knows if she really felt nothing, she could kiss me and walk away.

Instead, her breath catches. Her fingers twitch. Her gaze drops to my mouth.

I grin, knowing Allie never backs down from a challenge.

She grabs my face and crushes her lips to mine. The kiss is desperate and wild, like she’s drowning.

I groan into her mouth. My hands shake from holding back.

I want to touch her everywhere. Pull her into me. Own her.

But I don’t.

Not yet.

She whimpers and rises onto her toes, dragging me down to her.

I grab her hips, hauling her flush against me.

She gasps when she feels how hard I already am.

“Still think it was a mistake, baby?" I murmur against her lips.

She freezes.

Then she rips herself away like she’s on fire, stumbling back.

Her eyes are wide with panic. Her lips are bruised and perfect.

Then she opens her mouth and lies to me. "That meant nothing."

I dark and low laugh escapes me.

“You’re a goddamn liar."