Page 60 of Silver Fox Puck

"You don’t get to do that," she says finally, steady and unflinching.

"Do what?" I ask, my words calm, measured.

Her jaw tightens. "You don’t get to act like you own me."

I take a step closer.

She doesn’t move.

I lean in, my words low enough to make her breath hitch.

"Then don’t play games you’re not ready to finish."

Her throat bobs. Her fingers twitch against her arm. But her eyes? They burn with defiance.

"Who says I’m not ready?" she murmurs.

I exhale, slow. Controlled.

Because she’s pushing me again. Because she has no idea what she’s asking for.

I take one more step forward, bringing us so close, the space between us disappears.

I can feel her breath, can see the way her pulse flutters at the base of her throat. She doesn’t pull away. And that? That’s the biggest mistake she could have made.

I let my fingers trail up her arm, slow, deliberate, barely there. Her sharp inhale tells me everything. Then I lower my head, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"You want to play, Flight?" I rasp, low and rough.

She doesn’t answer. She just stands there, chest rising and falling, green eyes locked on mine.

I pull back slightly, my gaze dropping to her mouth. I linger. Just long enough to watch her lips part, her pulse kick against the delicate skin of her throat.

Then I step back.

Slow. Measured. Leaving her standing there, breath unsteady, fingers twitching at her sides.

Wanting.

Her breath comes sharper now. I turn, starting toward the parking lot.

"Go home, Kenzie," I murmur over my shoulder. "Before you start something you can’t handle."

I don’t look back. Because if I do? I’ll ruin her.

And next time?

There won’t be any holding back.

Chapter 12 – Grant

I should be asleep.

I should be anywhere but here, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles are screaming.

But I can’t fucking move. Because she’s under my skin. Because she’s still in my head. Because I don’t know how to stop wanting her.

The way her breath hitched when I leaned in. The way her body shivered under my fingers. The way she was waiting—expecting—needing me to close the space between us.

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