She’s doing everything she can to keep her composure—without noticing how it’s coming apart at the seams. Under my palm, her heart pounds as if it wants to break free, and a shiver runs through her body the moment I touch her chin with my finger. She hisses that I’m bold and unbearable, turns away, shuts her eyes—like that makes it easier to hide the truth from herself. But the body can’t lie. And I see it: she needs this.
This incredible woman challenged me herself—told me to catch her, if I could. And do you have to persuade a man? I’m driven wild by her scent, her gaze, her stubbornness, and her pride. And if she’s sure I’ll let her go—she’s wrong. Very wrong.
I’ll catch up. And I won’t let her go again.