Chapter Twelve

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If his cock was any harder, it would have punched a damn hole through his jeans

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If his cock was any harder, it would have punched a damn hole through his jeans.

Sitting on the bed, gripping the edge with hands that had gone clawed, Niko tried to breathe through a haze of lust so powerful, it threatened to shatter what pitiful control he'd managed to maintain.

Take me to bed.

The words echoed in his head, over and over and over.

Seduction or tenderness isn't required.

The fuck it wasn't. Seduction and tenderness were just two of the things he owed her, two of the things he intended to give her. He wanted to...hell, he couldn't expect her to trust him again any time soon, but this could he touch her with that between them?

And yet there was truth in the words she'd spoken.

They'll look at me, realize my...dilemma, and understand that you still won't touch me.

The thought of anybody looking down on her, of anybody pitying her, sneering at her, or laughing at her, all of it made him want to tear things apart with his bare hands.

So caught up in a haze of anger, need and want, he didn't pay much attention to the creaking sound that was a door.

But then there were footsteps.

Zee, he thought, uncurling his hands from the bed.

The lost look in her eyes right before she'd turned away had gutted him.

Did she really think he didn't want her?

Rising, he moved to the hall, her name already forming on his lips.

The sound of another door had him going predator-still.

The door to the outer hallway.

He was in the main area of the suite before she had it fully open.


She looked at him over her shoulder and he came up short, his brain overloading as he took in the sight before him.

She still wore the thin white button down shirt she'd had on earlier—and she still had no bra on. He could make out the darker circles of her nipples and both his mouth and hands itched to touch, to taste. The shirt was tucked into a pair of skin-tight jeans and she had on a pair of sky-high red heels that matched the lipstick she'd put on. Her eyes were made up to look all sexy and slumberous, while she'd pulled her hair into a messy topknot that left the delicate, elegant arch of her neck bare.

Sucking in a breath, he rasped, "Where are you going?"

"To the bar."

Before she could slide from the room, he caught her arm. She weighed less than nothing to him and he had her back inside, his back braced against the door before he even thought through his reaction.

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