Page 21 of Scornful

"Astrid," I say, her name like a prayer on my lips.

"This is a terrible idea," she whispers, but her hands don't stop their exploration of my torso.

"The worst," I agree, reaching up to catch one of her wrists gently. "We should stop."

Neither of us moves.

Her pulse races beneath my fingertips, matching the thunder of my own heart.

"My dad would kill you," she says, but she doesn't pull away.

"Probably," I agree, my thumb tracing small circles on the inside of her wrist.

"I'm not supposed to... clients aren't..." she tries, but the words fade as I sit up slowly, keeping my hold on her wrist.

Now we're face to face, close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in her sage green eyes, count every freckle dusting her nose.

"Tell me to go," I say, my voice a low rumble. "Tell me this isn't what you want, and I'll walk out that door right now."

She swallows hard, her eyes never leaving mine. "I can't do that," she whispers.

It's all the permission I need.

My hand releases her wrist to slide around the back of her neck, pulling her toward me as I close the distance between us.

Our lips meet in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly turns into something more urgent, more demanding.

She tastes like spearmint and possibility, her lips soft yet insistent against mine.

A small sound escapes her throat—something between a sigh and a moan—and it nearly undoes me.

My free hand finds her waist, urging her closer until she's standing between my legs as I sit on the edge of the massage table.

Her hands, those incredible hands that have been taking me apart piece by piece, slide up my chest to my shoulders, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

The kiss deepens, as I force my tongue into her mouth.

As our tongues meet, her body arches toward mine, curves pressing against my hardness in a way that makes me growl low in my throat.

It's Astrid who breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes, her breath coming in quick pants that match my own.

"We really shouldn't," she says, though her hands haven't left my shoulders, her body still pressed against mine.

"I know," I agree, my thumb tracing her lower lip, still damp from our kiss. "But I've been thinking about this since the parking lot. Since before that, if I'm being honest."

Her eyes widen slightly at the admission. "You have?"

"You're all I can think about," I confess, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. "Your eyes, your smile, the way you stand up to your brothers... everything about you, Astrid."

She looks stunned, like no one's ever spoken to her this way before.

And maybe they haven't.

The thought of Laken and his cruel words flashes through my mind, making my jaw clench.

"I thought..." she starts, then stops, looking uncertain. "I didn't think someone like you would look twice at someone like me."

My brow furrows. "What the hell does that mean?"

---