Ideclined Sloane’s offer to go to her ce or ask her toe to mine. That wasn’t happening. Apparently, I was still hung up on Naomi.

    Was it because I didn’t get closure? Was it because she was the one who said it was over? Or…did I feel for her more than I dared to admit?

    I had no fucking idea!

    Since I saw her at Saffron, I hadn’t slept. I hadn’t eaten. I was not able to focus on anything but the need to see her—ask her if she was sleeping with Jonah Fuckin’ Lamarre.

    This shit needed to stop. It needed to end. I had work. I had reports to finish, permits to sign off on, and crew updates to approve.

    But as soon as I could get away from work—and before I could talk myself out of it—I was halfway down Royal, pounding pavement like a man running from (or to?) ghosts.

    Aire Noire came into view, its ck-gold signage glowing soft above the door.

    She’d changed the disy window. Now it wasn’t a woman getting ready to pleasure herself—no, it was a continuation. This woman wasying back, her legs still parted, her hands on her breasts, covering thece there—looking very much like a woman who’d just orgasmed.

    It was just a mannequin, and I was waxing poetic about it.

    I was losing my mind.

    I opened the door and stepped in—the ce, like always, was like sin dressed in satin…just like Naomi.

    She was behind the counter, her back to me, locking the cash drawer. Her hair was up in a loose twist, neck bare, a silk camisole hugged her spine like a whisper.

    The shop smelled like orange blossoms and something darker underneath. Sex? Or memory?

    She didn’t turn when she spoke. “We’re closed,” she said in a sing-song manner.

    I shut the door behind me and locked it.

    She turned and gasped when she saw me.

    “You with Jonah Lamarre now?” I demanded. No finesse. No polish. Nothing but raw jealousy.

    She went still for half a breath—just enough for me to feel it like a blow to the chest.

    “That’s none of your business,” she replied politely, her arms crossing.

    “It is,” I growled, stepping forward. “You think you can let him touch you? Sit across from him, smiling like he…like he’s earned it?”

    Her expression went from courteous anger to stone.

    “I can let whoever I want touch me. What’s it to you?”

    My hands were clenched into fists. It was an effort to not reach out to her, m her body against mine and take…

    “He’s not good enough for you,” I bit out.

    “Really?” Her voice was fiery with sarcasm. But her eyes…fuck, her eyes were hurt.

    It gutted me.

    I should’ve walked away.

    Instead, I stepped closer.

    And closer still.

    Until I was in her space, and she was staring up at me like she might p me or kiss me or both.

    “You still want me,” I murmured as I scanned her face.

    I’d missed her. Missed everything about her. Her pouty lips. Those beautiful eyes. That perfect nose.

    She raised that perfect nose in the air. “You’re full of it, aren’t you?”

    “Want me to fill you up, baby?” I asked huskily. A shiver gave her away.

    “I want you to go to hell.” Her voice shook.

    “Already there, baby.”

    And then I had her against the wall behind the register, my lips devouring hers, the world dissolving into a feverish blur.

    She struck me.

    Once.

    Her open palm crashed against my chest, a futile resistance.

    Then she clutched my shirt, pulling me closer with a force that belied her words. Her kiss was venomous, as if she loathed me for every breath I took, while I kissed her like it was my only salvation.

    I touched her,yer beneathyer, as if unveiling a treasure I longed to im.

    My hands slid beneath the hem of her white camisole, dragging it upward. Her breath caught, her body arching towards me, her nails embedding into my shoulders as I pressed her firmly against the unyielding wall of silk and mirrors.

    ‘No one makes you feel like I do,’ I murmured against her throat, my voice a promise and a curse. ‘No one.’

    She gasped as my hand slipped under her skirt, between her thighs, her defiance crumbling.

    I couldn’t stop.

    Wouldn’t.

    She needed to know what I did for her. She needed to know.

    I felt her up with a hunger that could only be described as feral. The fabric of her skirt bunched around her hips, I pushed her panties aside, leaving her bare pussy exposed to the cool air—her sweet little slit begging for attention.

    My fingers trailed up the inside of her thighs, slow and deliberate, making her shiver like she was on the edge of a breakdown.

    She was still wearing her clothes, but that didn’t stop me from making her feel like she waspletely naked, utterly at my mercy.

    My fingers brushed against her soaking wet cunt. “Fuck, Naomi,” I groaned, “you’re already dripping for me.”

    Her breath hitched, her hips bucking involuntarily as my fingers teased her swollen lips.

    A part of me wanted to rush, but another wanted to take my time. I dragged my fingertips along her pussy, gathering up her slick like I was painting with her juices. Then, with a suddenness that made her gasp, I plunged two fingers deep inside her, fucking her pussy with a rhythm that was all power, no mercy.

    She whimpered, her hands wing at my shoulders as I curled my fingers inside her, hitting her velvet G-spot.

    Her back arched, her tits pressing against the fabric of her top, nipples hard enough to cut ss.

    I leaned in close, my hot breath against her ear as I whispered, “You like that, don’t you? You love getting fucked by my fingers, don’t you, baby?”

    I didn’t let up, my fingers pistoning in and out of her tight pussy while my thumb found her clit, rubbing it in tight little circles that had her trembling like a leaf in a hurricane.

    She was a mess.

    My mess!

    Her moans turned into high-pitched screams as I worked her over, her pussy clenching around my fingers trying to suck me in deeper.

    “I—I can’t—oh—” she stammered, but I cut her off with a rough kiss, my tongue invading her mouth as I fucked her harder, faster…relentless in my pursuit of her orgasm.

    And then it hit her like a freight train, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her as she came all over my hand, her pussy pulsing and squeezing around my fingers as I milked everyst fucking drop of ecstasy out of her.

    She screamed into my mouth, her body shaking uncontrobly as I kept rubbing her clit, drawing out her orgasm until she was nothing but a trembling, gasping mess in my arms.

    My mess.

    I had unraveled her, yes.

    But she’d unraveled me, too.

    “That’s it,” I murmured, finally pulling my fingers out of her dripping pussy. “Can he do that for you?”

    I sucked my fingers clean, watching outrage wash away any sign of her orgasm.

    “How can you…how…?” She fixed me with a sharp, venomous stare as she caught her breath.

    How can I?

    Because you allowed me entry into your world, your heart.

    Because I am the monster who makes you feel everything.

    Only to demand she forget? My conscience interjected.

    She shoved me away, her breath ragged, cheeks flushed.

    She looked devastated, furious, and achingly beautiful.

    ‘I hate that you did that, that I let you,’ she whispered, a confession wrapped in barbed wire.

    My heart twisted. ‘I know.’

    “Why, Gage?” Her eyes filled with emotion.

    “I…want you,” I confessed helplessly.

    My head was muddled.

    It was theck of sleep.

    It was not wanting any other woman but her. It was seeing her with another man, knowing I’d lost her,pletely.

    “You had me.” She stepped away from me as if I were someone she needed to fear.

    And she did, didn’t she?

    I was being an asshole. I wasn’t going to love her like she wanted, like she deserved, but I couldn’t stand someone else giving her what I couldn’t.

    ‘I know.’

    We lingered in silence, my heart thrumming like a caged creature within a sinking vessel.

    ‘You need to leave, Gage.’

    ‘I can’t.’

    Her eyes zed with an intensity that burned through me. ‘You don’t have a choice. I won’t do this with you. I won’t be your fuck buddy. I want more. I want it all.”

    I knew she did.

    Then why the fuck was I here?

    Because I couldn’t stay away.

    “I…can’t see you with another man,” I admitted, letting her see me weak, vulnerable, a mess.

    Her mess?

    She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, there was only sadness. “How do you think I felt seeing you with so many other women? You kissed one in front of me. Had sex with herter?—”

    “I didn’t. I lied.” I couldn’t let her think that. Not anymore. “I haven’t been with anyone since you. I…I’ve tried, not gonna lie, Naomi, but….”

    “But what?” she screamed. “You came here to fuck me because you haven’t gottenid in awhile? Is that what I am to you?

    “You’re everything,” I murmured.