Page 45 of Risks of Temptation

We tell the others bye, and Malin leads me to the outside. "We need to stay quiet, ma belle, so the perimeter team doesn't know we are going."

"Why don't they know?"

"I'll explain later."

I sigh. Another later. It's always later.

He takes my hand and leads me out of the camp and into the dense jungle. For a long time, we don't speak, and I get angrier from not knowing anything about what is going on. Penelope knew she was leaving before Naomi came into the tent. The others didn't look surprised they were leaving, either. That means I'm the only one who was left clueless and in the dark.

We finally get to a narrow path. It's not very wide, but it's better than fighting the thick foliage.

"Are you doing okay, ma belle?" Malin asks.

"I'm good. Just wondering why I had to split from my sister and half your team doesn't know we left. Oh, also, why did we leave? And why was everyone else in camp aware of whatever the hell is going on, except me?" I snap.

His lips twitch.

My face burns with anger. "Did I say something funny?"

He places his hand on the curve of my waist, tugs me into him, and says something in French. It pisses me off further and also makes my loins throb.

I push away from him, keep walking forward, and in Spanish, aggressively say, "Don't think you can leave me in the dark because you're making my panties twist. Oh wait, I'm not wearing any panties."

He stops. A cocky grin splits his face.

I turn to him with my hand on my hip.

He says something in French then slowly scans my body, continuing to spout off. His eyes pause at my breasts, waist, and sex on the way down and again on the way up. He ends it by speaking faster and looking into my eyes.

My veins buzz with fire. In Spanish, I jab him in the chest and reply, "I have no clue what you're saying, but you can stop trying to derail me with your sexy talk and heated stare."

He slides his hand through my hair and tilts my head up.

More French words roll out of his mouth. His lips brush against my cheek, then my nose, then my other cheek.

I gasp. My heart pounds faster.

His lips are so close to my mouth, I taste his breath. His eyes drill into mine, and he says something else I can't decipher.

Oh God. Kiss me.

No, don't. I won't know what to do.

Please, kiss me.

It's not that I've never kissed anyone before. But they were boys. Malin is a man.

And my last kiss was years ago. I never enjoyed kissing anyone. My skin crawled, and I felt suffocated. But nothing about Malin aligns with my previous experiences.

His thumb glides across my lips as he continues to speak then he slides his fingers back into my hair and caresses my cheek with his thumb.

My insides quiver as his mouth comes closer. He brushes my lips with his, and I inhale sharply.

He says something else in French, but with his lips against mine. Lime and leather flare in my nostrils.

"Please," I whisper so quietly, I barely hear it come out.

His lips twitch, and he holds my head firmly, then parts my lips with his, rolling his tongue against mine.