“Your workout? You haven’t started…” She tilts her chin up high to keep eye contact with me, and she stutters in her attempt to clarify my words.

Staying away from her was a mistake. Hanging out with her was like subjecting myself to poison little by little in order to build up an immunity. Instead of helping me, my avoiding her only made me more susceptible.

She’s irresistible in a way I’ve never felt before. Her draw is so intense that I notice every detail—every freckle, the delicate curve of her jawline, and the way her pulse thumps beneath the tender skin of her neck. My stomach clenches, and pressure builds between my legs.

“Blake?” Her voice hitches. The lust burning between us so palpable it’s scenting the air.

“Fuck.” I lick my lips. “I need to taste you.” Sliding my hand behind her neck, I sift my fingers into her hair below her loose ponytail.

The weight of her head falls into my hand as she gives herself over to me. With a pounding behind my ribs, I lean down while pulling her up. “One taste.” The desperate pleading in my voice sounds foreign in my ears.

I grip her hair. Her eyes flutter open, the brown so deep it’s hard to tell the difference between the iris and the pupil.

“Ask for it,” I demand and fight getting lost, drowning completely, in her lustful stare.

Her thick, dark lashes flutter as if they’re trying to stay open. “Ask?”

“Won’t do it without your permission, sweetheart.”

Something heavy flares in her eyes before she pushes it away. “Please.” Her plea is voiced on a whimper.

A jolt races up my spine. She’s begging, but I need to hear the words. “Please what, Mouse?”

“Kiss me.”

With fuckin’ pleasure.

I reach down and cup her ass, and a gasp of surprise seeps from her lips. Her palms lay flat against my chest, her fingers finding purchase in my shirt. Pulling her close, I slide my thigh between her legs. I flex my hips into the heat of her body. So fucking hot.

Taking her mouth in a slow caress, her soft lips ignite my craving. With a gentle pull from my grip on her hair, she tilts her head, allowing my control of the kiss. As much as I want to take over her mouth, to dominate her, I force myself to stay in control. I run my tongue along the seam of her mouth, a silent but unmistakable request. A moan rolls up from her throat and her lips part.

Here’s my taste. And what a fucking unbelievable taste it is.

Her wet mouth combined with the sweetness on her tongue explodes in my gut. I dig my fingers into her ass, pressing her down against my thigh. I know I’m pushing it, but it’s impossible to hold myself back. And fuck me, she grinds into me with her eager little body, rubbing her breasts against my chest and her inner thighs against mine. I suck her tongue deep, trying to consume all the sweet from her wet flesh like the starving man that I’ve been.

It’s not enough. I want more.

Our mouths move together, synchronized in perfect rhythm. Overcome, I nip at her lip, pulling with my teeth then soothing the ache with my tongue. Her hands slide down to dip beneath my shirt. She pushes her hands up, the soft skin of her palms skating along my abs to my chest, leaving behind a trail of goose bumps. Skin to skin, no barrier between us, she must feel my heart hammering.

My body roars to take her. To bury in deep and lose myself forever. But I promised her one taste. As much as I’d love to spend the next few days ravishing her body, showing her what it’s capable of feeling, I won’t take advantage.

Slowing the kiss, I suck at her lips before moving down her jawline. The fragrance of her skin concentrated below her ear sends a groan of need from my chest. She arches her neck, opening up to me. The combination of her sweet skin and the salt of her sweat makes me hunger to taste her everywhere. I lazily glide my lips from her collarbone to her ear, trailing the tip of my tongue along her pulse.

I can’t help pulling her earlobe between my teeth. “Fuckin’ hell, Mouse. You’ll be the death of me,” I whisper and rest my forehead against hers.

The room is quiet except for the sound of our heavy breathing. I hold her close, reluctant to let her go, knowing that this is my only chance to have her in this way. I close my eyes and absorb the feel of her body in my arms. She’s so small and breakable, I’m overcome with the need to protect her. But that’s not my job. She doesn’t belong to me and never will.

“Why now?”

Her question brings my head back and my eyes to hers.

“You’ve been avoiding me. So, why now?”

She deserves an answer. A really fucking good answer. Truth is, I’m a pussy.

I move my hand from her hair and cup her nape. “I want you. But I’m no good for you.”

Her head bobs. “I thought, the other night when I shared all that stuff, I thought I scared you off.”

“No. But the shit I felt when you opened up like that wasn’t right.” How do I explain my unhealthy attraction? The fact is that a woman alone in the world, with a kid, brings out a primal urge to protect. It’s the ugly leftover from my past. Years of taking care of my mom and little brother, and throwing myself up as a barrier between them and the General, made me a slave. And I’m nobody’s bitch. “You, Axelle, you girls deserve steady. I’ll never be that guy.”

“But… that kiss.” She studies the spot where her hands rest unseen beneath my shirt. Her eyebrows pinch together like she’s seeing me for the first time. And she doesn’t look happy about what she sees.

“The kiss was hot, Mouse.” Hottest damn kiss I’ve ever experienced, but she doesn’t need to know that.

Her hands drop from my chest, and she pulls against my hold. “Let me go.”

“Can’t do that, sweetheart.” I flex my fingers at her neck and hip.

“Blake.” She glares at me, and I watch the violent storm build in her eyes. “Let. Me. Go.”

I should, and I will, eventually. But knowing that this is the last time I’ll hold her this close and feel her soft skin beneath my palm, I’ll milk the clock and soak up every second. “Just wanted a taste. Didn’t know how good it’d be.”

She rocks back with a grunt, but I hold her flush to my body. After a second of resistance, she sags in my arms. “Blake…” Her whispered refusal dies on her lips along with her fight. She leans her weight into me and grips the sides of my T-shirt.

My eyes slide shut, and I’m stuck somewhere between What the fuck and There is a God. Holding her like this, feeling her give herself over to me like she did before our kiss—Fuck. If I let myself feel what I’m burying deep, I don’t think I’ll let her go. Ever.

I lean down and bury my nose in her hair, my thumb tracing circles on the bare skin of her lower back. So soft, so fuckin’ sweet, so—oomph!

Sharp pain explodes between my legs. I double over, holding my balls, and drop to my knees. Shiiit.

“Next time a woman tells you to let go? Let. Go.”

Her purple and black Nikes walking away are all I see from my fetal position on the floor. I pinch my eyes shut with a groan and roll as the pain surges from my nuts into my stomach. Motherfuck. I swallow hard, fighting my gut’s attempt to jump out my mouth. My lungs burn and struggle as I suck air through my nose and grind my teeth.

I curl up tight and prepare for the ten minutes of hell that I’ll have to endure before I can chase after her. Or, fuck, at this point it might be better to quit while I’m down.

Twelve

Layla

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I let him kiss me. He doesn’t so much as look at me for almost a week, and I let him kiss me. Even worse, I begged him to. It took him ten seconds to get me right where he wanted me. Ten seconds before he changed my world, had me skating on rainbows and seeing stars, only to knock me down. You girls need steady? I’ll never be that guy?

And where in the hell is the cereal?

The crack of my kitchen cupboard slamming shut gives me little relief. Not as much as seeing Blake squirm on the floor of the weight room like a dying animal. Ass-fucking-hole.

I stomp down the hallway to Elle’s room. “Elle, did you eat all the—?” Her room’s empty. “Elle?”

It’s almost nine on a school night. I wrack my mind, which is slushy from the kiss I still feel in my damn toes. Killian was supposed to bring her home. Or did she tell me she had plans after school, and I forgot? Maybe they went to a movie or had a late study group. No, I specifically remember her telling me she’d be home. If there was a change of plans, she would’ve called.

I tug my phone from the pocket of my sweatshirt. No new calls, no texts. I scroll to her number and press send.

Voicemail. Shit.

“Elle, it’s Mom. Where are you? Call me as soon as you get this.”

Heart pounding, hands shaking, I grab my keys off the kitchen counter. I’m halfway down the stairs to my car when I realize I have no clue where to look for her. I don’t know where Killian lives. Do I even have his number?

Dropping down, I sit on the step, my head between my hands. Deep breaths.

Good thing you’re infertile. You can’t even handle the one kid we have.

“Please, no. Not now.” Brought to my emotional knees. I’m not strong enough to fight the mental assault. I thought I could do this. I thought I could take care of us. No food in the cupboards, I’m having to take handouts, and I’m losing track of my daughter. I dig my hands into my hair and tug. The stinging pain on my scalp pulls me back to my reality. Where could she be?