Page 47 of Last Chorus

He erases the space between our bodies. The counter digs into my stomach, but I don’t notice. All I feel is his hands, still moving over mine, and the heat of his chest down my spine. Ninety-nine percent of my awareness, though, is now on my lower half. Specifically my ass, against which presses undeniable evidence that he’s still attracted to me. Thick, rock-hard, searing evidence.

Deep inside me, behind a rattling door, is relief so sudden and potent that if I dared to feel it, I’d probably sob for hours.

He murmurs, “The second part of my answer to your question is that I’m turning off the noise in your head so you actually hear me. Ready for the hard part?”

My mind blank, I nod.

“First and foremost, have you even met me? No one canmakeme do anything. Yes, your parents showed up at my house a few days after Christmas. Completely blindsided me. First your dad apologized for being a jerk to me years ago. I told him I’d deserved it. We had a bromance moment—it was great.”

My lips twitch, then compress as he continues, “Then they dropped a bomb on me. They told me you were in trouble and asked me to try to help you.”

When I immediately stiffen, he pulses his hips. Caught on the rougher fabric of his jeans, my leggings drag upward, pulling the seam tighter between my legs. A small, choked whimper leaves me.

“Listening ears back on?”

Annoyance pierces my sensory overwhelm. “Asshole,” I hiss.

My back vibrates with his low chuckle, but there’s more threat than humor in it. “You’re right. I’m such an asshole. Only an asshole would be sick with worry for a woman who told him he might as well have overdosed because he was as good as dead to her.”

A hammer hits my heart. “I didn’t mean that.”

He counters calmly, “I never held it against you. Honestly, I felt like I deserved worse for what I did.” A sigh ruffles my hair. “Regardless, you’re not wrong. I’m still an asshole. I’ve decided to disregard your request to leave you alone. It’s been almost seven years. I’m done playing dead. Done pretending my heart will ever stop belonging to you.”

A different hammer hits my chest, this one spiked.

Catastrophic.

“No. You can’t say that. You don’t mean that. Let me go.”

Water and soap fly over the counter and backsplash as I struggle against him. But he only holds me closer, tighter, as he speaks in a voice of gravel and iron.

“Right now you have two choices. One, you shut your beautiful mouth and listen because I haven’t finished. Or two, I take you to the nearest bed and fuck the stubbornness out of you.”

My whole body shudders, my clit pulsing so incessantly I know a purposeful touch would send me over the edge. A moan rockets up my throat. I manage to catch it before it escapes, but I’m powerless to stop my hips from searching for friction.

Wilder muffles a groan on my shoulder. “Stop that. This is hard enough without coming in my pants.” He pauses, then chuckles. “Punny.”

With a breathless note of hysteria, I sag against the counter. Wilder nuzzles my neck, inhaling deeply and humming when I tremble.

“Option one it is.”

I stare into the sink, musing that my sanity is draining away with the last of the soap. At the thought, guilt pricks me for wasting so much water.

He slaps the faucet off.

My mouth drops open. “What, are you psychic now?”

“Runs in the family,” he replies lightly, like he didn’t just threaten to fuck me, laugh at his own pun, then read my mind. “Suffice to say, when your parents left my house, I was pretty freaked out. They were vague about whyyou needed help. Lily and Rye didn’t have answers, either, at least not ones that were good enough.

“I needed to see you in person, to draw my own conclusions. So I found out where you’d be on New Year’s Eve and yes, I ambushed you. But you ambushed me, too. Because instead of finding the indomitable Evangeline-fucking-Sullivan, I found one of those wooden dolls that hide a bunch of smaller dolls inside it.”

“A Matryoshka doll,” I say in spite of myself.

“Exactly. You’d covered yourself with a dozen protective layers, thinking no one would notice.” His voicelowers to a rasp. “Did you think for one fucking second I wouldn’t see all the way to the center of you?”

Closing my eyes, I shake my head helplessly. “Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?”

“You know what I want.”

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