Page 68 of The Silent Note

“Stupid buttons,” he hisses against my lips. His head curves down to the shirt that’s denying him entry.

I look up from where I’m pinned beneath him, watching the midnight-black hair fall into frustrated eyes.

“Let me.” I curl my fingers around his.

“I got it,” he insists. “I did your pants.”

“My pants had one button.”

“If I did one, I can do six.”

“You’ve got a broken wrist.”

“I’m aware of what parts of me are and aren’t working.”

“It’ll be faster if I do it.”

His lips curve up wickedly.

I shoot him a dark look. “Don’tyou dare make a joke right now.”

Zane’s laughter gets pressed into my mouth as he kisses me again with such intensity that my first thought is ‘I can’t breathe’ and my second is ‘it’s okay if I never breathe again’. He brings his fingers to my chest, his sling jostling under my chin.

I try to shove his hand away so I can do the unbuttoning, but he nips my bottom lip and then licks it, offering both my punishment and my pleasure.

A moan escapes my throat, without my consent, and Zane looks down with eyes that douse me in gasoline.

Bottomless. Blue.

I want to look away, afraid to drown in a sea that restless, afraid it’ll freeze over and turn to ice without warning.

“Behave, Miss Jamieson.”

Surprise. And then a gush of desire. It stokes the flames already bursting inside me, spreading from my head to the tipsof my toes. I wonder what kind of sick, twisted psychopath I am. What sick, twisted psychopath I’ve been all along.

Zane slides his mouth against mine again, slipping his tongue inside. I feel that wet invasion between my legs.

More buttons come undone. His hand sweeps over my skin, testing, tasting.

Blood turns to lava in my veins.

Body thrumming.

Muscle taut.

A phone rings.

He ignores it, focused on me. Hands, everywhere at once. Mouth marking a path from my chest to my stomach and lower.

The phone is insistent.

He lifts his head.

I want to push it back down. Instead, I deflate into the pillows and stare at the ceiling like a responsible adult.

“It could be the warden,” Zane explains roughly, pushing off me.

I don’t want to answer him. Every word bursting at the tip of my tongue right now is embarrassing.

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