Page 76 of Trick Shot

Smug satisfaction paints his stupidly gorgeous face.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” he murmurs, low and pleased. His breath fans across my lips—a cocktail of mint and whiskey.

“You’re getting nowhe—” I don’t even have time to get the final syllable out before his fingers tighten around my hair and his soft lips come down on mine.

Fireworks explode all over my body, my thighs instinctively tightening on both sides of his torso. His stubble scratches against my chin as he kisses me like he’s sealing the deal. He knows this is the moment I stop pretending I don’t want this.

My lips part, and he slides his tongue against mine, deepening the kiss just enough to make my entire body light up again. I whimper before I can stop it, and he groans into my mouth.

I feel it in every cell of my body—the anticipation, the ache, the undeniable sense that there’s no stopping this now.

He pulls back just slightly, barely a breath between us, and looks down at me with something darker.

“You still want me to get out?”

My heart thunders in my chest. I look up at him—at this massive, cocky, devastatingly hot man hovering over me, lips still wet from kissing me—and I can’t lie to either of us anymore.

“I haven’t decided yet,” I whisper.

He grins against my lips before bringing his mouth down on mine again. One hand dives into my hair, the other bracing the bed as his body sinks lower, chest pressing to mine, weight pinning me like it’s always belonged there.

His heart is pounding against my ribs, matching my own. He’s so close—all heat, pressure, and the kind of tension that steals your choices.

“I hate you,” I breathe it into his mouth.

“Hate me harder,” he whispers back, hand tightening in my hair.

I don’t know what I was thinking when I pulled him down by the shirt. Because now, I feel it—that slow, spiraling electricity that starts low in my stomach and builds with every second he keeps kissing me like that.

His tongue slips between my lips, and I pull him closer.

No one’s ever kissed me like this. My entire body reacts like it’s just been waiting for this moment.

Is this really happening?

I feel his hand skate down my waist, fingers trailing over the curve of my hip. It’s gentle and careful, but there’s weight behind it—a possessiveness. He’s not groping me, he’s touching me.

A pulse of panic flickers in my chest, buried beneath the molten ache building low in my belly.

Ghost.

The thought crashes into me.

What am I doing? I know what I shouldn’t be doing. This. I shouldn’t be kissing Jace, letting him touch me, letting this go any further. Not when there’s someone else—someone I’ve spent ten months opening up to. Even if I don’t know what he looks like. Even if I’ve started wondering if the magic will disappear the second I find out. The moment you take off the costume, reality hits.

“You’re overthinking again?” Jace whispers against my mouth before pulling away an inch.

He’s watching me, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. Still so close I can feel the warmth of his breath against my lips.

I swallow hard.

“Thinking about someone else?” he asks, dragging his thumb across my cheek.

When I don’t answer, he chuckles and hooks two fingers under my chin, making me look at him.

“I won’t share you, Melody.” His voice is lower now.

The way he says it makes my belly tighten.I won’t share.And should I?