Page 86 of Manhattan Tormentor

Yet it all falls by the wayside when the door pulls open. I’m confronted by deep blue eyes and a slack-jawed gaze from the man who has me tied in knots day and night. But seeing him now brings a sense of peace.

I want to breathe him in and never let out an exhale.

Every word of that carefully crafted speech falls out of my head one word at a time. Because I lunge forward with no prior warning from my brain. Seems my mouth is steering the ship as it crashes down on Sage’s.

His taste explodes inside my head as I grasp him around the back of his neck. I swallow his short inhale of breath when I touch my tongue to his.

Damn, I’ve missed this.

I’m the bad guy, I shouldn’t get this goodness, but I’m taking it if I can.

Missed him until I thought I’d never sleep easy again without the memories of him sending me insane. I pour every ounce of longing into an unplanned kiss that tears through me and ravages his mouth.

He might be the one who pushes me back, but he was in that kiss. For a second or two he was fucking in it with me, so I don’t feel so dejected when he glares at me. “Did you bump your head and you think it’s a year ago?” His tone chilled.

That monotone voice of his slides through me like sex.

He gets me hard.

Whatever script I had planned disappears.

All I feel is relief standing in front of him.

I’ve waited for this day.

Agonized over it for months.

I kicked out my good intentions the second I saw his face and watched suspicion enter his eyes. For a second, I’m sure I see something else.

Want.

My mouth went rogue as fuck. Now I’m saturated in his taste and trying to resist savaging him against the door.

I want him, he must know that, but I have a long way to go before I can have what I want.

I won’t fuck this up more than I already have, so I step back, inhaling slowly until I have control.

“Hey, Fierro.” I finally say, “you got a minute to talk?”

C H A P T E R 26

Sage

“Talk?”

“Yeah. We can go for a coffee, there’s a half-decent place across the street.”

Blinking, it feels like I’ve been sucker punched seeing him in front of me, looking as good as he does. He reaches up and adjusts his black Nike cap before shooting me a crooked smile as though there’s no conflict swarming between us.

I knew the day I saw him again I’d have this inner war with myself because of my weakened emotions. Those one-track minded bastards almost have me climbing to get into his mouth again, so I grip the door frame and shake my head.

I’m not led by my dick.Anymore.

My life is too busy and structured to get distracted in his closeted drama again. The feelings for him haven’t disappeared, I doubt they ever will. I still jerk off to memories of him, he’s in every dream. I swear it’s either a brain tumor or I really hear his voice sometimes while I’m sitting in class.

Finn Maverick is under my skin, but I’m stronger than lust andwant,and he’s not dragging me under again. It’s not hard to notice the changes in him. He looks a couple of inches taller, and he’s filled out. He appears calmer somehow.

“No. We have nothing to talk about, Finn.”

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