Page 68 of Playing With Danger

“Nothing. I was gauging my ability to concentrate around a certain hot, six-foot-two beast with the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, who’s possessive, feral, and bossy in a way that totally works for me. But really, those three things aren’t about control and ego, they’re protection and safety.”

“Fuck,” he growled. “Now I gotta kiss you again.”

“Works for me.”

“I know.”

This kiss was nothing more than a tease. A stroke of his tongue against mine with a sweet peck to the corner of my mouth.

“What’d you come up with?” he asked as his lips brushed over my cheek.

“Huh?”

“Work. My house. Concentration.”

Another lip brush. This one glided over the sensitive skin under my ear.

“Yes.”

“Yes, you’ll be able to concentrate?”

Not on work, I wouldn’t.

“Yes,” I lied.

“We’ll see.”

Valentine bit my earlobe and straightened.

Goodbyes were said that included me telling him to be safe and call me later. His included a smile and confirmation he’d touch base later.

Now I was standing in my room, my concentration shot, unable to think about anything other than Valentine—the way he kissed, the way he touched me, the way he smiled, the way his eyes gave away his every emotion, what he’d said about me in his kitchen, his mom…I couldn’t stop thinking about all things Valentine. He was protective, strong, and confident. Which meant whatever it was that made him feel unworthy wasn’t a woman. I was well-aware there were many ways a woman could scar a man, make him question himself, build walls, but this was different. This had rooted itself deep. This, whatever it was, had shaken the foundation of his life.

I hated that.

I wanted to pry. I wanted to beg him to tell me. Or throw drama and break Valentine until he spilled his secrets. But this wasn’t about me and for once I was going to be ‘less Sophie’ as my mother called it when I was being too much of anything and let this play out how it needed to play out.

On that thought, I needed coffee.

My affinity was such I would brave the kitchen and Khloe’s obvious dislike to fetch a mug.

That was how I found myself tiptoeing down the hall, listening for voices, praying Hayden was feeling randy and aborted his mission to feed his date in favor of taking her to bed. I paused at the end of the short hallway and waited.

No voices.

Perfect.

I stopped dallying and rounded the corner to find Hater Girl in my kitchen alone.

Shit.

Her unhappy gaze landed on me and became less happy.

Double shit.

“Hey.” I infused as much friendliness as I could.

Maybe she was a nice person and Valentine and I had caught her off-guard when we showed. Not everyone was great with impromptu meet-and-greets.

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