Page 58 of The Bad Boy Rule

Once it’s off, I set it next to me and swing my gaze back to Saint.

He doesn’t even bother to hide the way he looks at me. Unabashedly, his eyes drag torturously slowly down my body to my white lace bra, which is soaked with sweat, and I watch as he licks his lips, swallowing roughly.

God, how is it that I can practicallyfeelhis eyes on me even when he’s on the other side of the elevator? As if his gaze is a physical caress, trailing over every inch of my exposed skin.

The thick muscle of his jaw flexes before he meets my eyes again.

I had no idea eye contact could be so… hot.

Sopurposeful.

Despite the stifling heat and tension surrounding us, a shiver races up my spine, sending a flurry of goose bumps erupting along my skin.

“Never have I ever kissed someone in an elevator.” His low, raspy words suck the rest of the air out of the room, specifically from my lungs. “Never have I ever wanted to kiss the girl who’s driving me fucking insane with how badly I want my lips on hersin a broken elevator where she looks so goddamn beautiful I feel like I can’t even breathe.”

He adds the next part as if he needs to make it even more clear to me thatI’mthe girl he kissed… or intends to.

My head feels light with the way he’s looking at me. Like I’m the only thing that’s going to breathe air back into his lungs. His eyes are hooded and dark, holding mine with rapt intensity.

“That’s just because there’s no air-conditioning.” My words are breathless.

His lips twitch. “No. It’syou.” His palm curves around my ankle, the pad of his thumb sweeping at the small sliver of skin that peeks out from the bottom of my jeans. The barest brush, and yet it feelsmonumental.

Gently, he tugs me a little closer. “Come here, Golden Girl.”

I’m frozen in place. This is a line that we’ve never touched. One that I’m scared to cross for so many reasons, but God, I want to. Even if I shouldn’t, even if it’s the absolute last thing I should want to do, it doesn’t change the fact that Ido.

Especially after today. Seeing a new side of him. One I didn’t even know existed.

“Lennon.” God, my name rolling off his lips feels like a sin, and I want to drown in it. “Come. Here.”

I push down the reasons I should say no, that I should stay on my side of this tiny elevator, and I slowly crawl over to his side, lowering myself to the floor beside him.

Neither of us says anything for seconds that seem to stretch on forever, staring, breathing.

Until he reaches out, palm curving around my neck as he hauls me to him, smashing his lips against mine.

TWENTY-EIGHT

SAINT

She fuckingwhimpers.

So soft and goddamn sweet that it shoots straight to my dick, the sound permanently ingrained in my head like a brand, one I won’t be forgetting as long as I live.

I don’t know soft or sweet. I don’t know slow. I don’t know gentle or patient.

I’m not that guy.

But as my palm slides along her jaw into the hair at her nape, I touch her as if she’ll shatter in my hands. Like she’s the most fragile thing I’ve ever encountered, and I’m afraid I’ll be the reason she breaks.

At first, her lips move hesitantly against mine, cautious, even as the war between her mind and her body rages inside of her, but then somethingshifts.

I can feel the moment she surrenders, and nothing has ever felt so utterly victorious in my life.

She fuckingmelts.

I sweep my tongue along the seam of her lips, asking—no, fuckingbeggingfor her to let me in, and then her plush lips part, another soft throaty sound ricocheting against my mouth.

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