Page 71 of The Price of Forever

I sniffed, searching his face as he spoke. Every word out of his mouth landed like a burst of aloe after the worst sunburn. Cool and refreshing, a godsend.

“I didn’t think that you were testing a new routine like you said,” he went on. “So I sent Trojan to test my theory. I never thought…” He shook his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I never thought you’d piece it together like you did. But I can see how, with you showing up here, recognizing Trojan…”

“I don’t do that stuff for anyone,” I admitted in a small voice. “Ever. I never have, and I never will. But… I couldn’t help myself with you. I just made up the side gig story. I was trying to cover my tracks, because…” I couldn’t say the rest. That I was falling for him. That I wanted so much more than I’d ever wanted from anybody else.

The corner of his mouth curled up. The warmth in his eyes sucked me in, and I was a goner. This, right here? This moment was what I lived for—Seven seeing me, wanting me, appreciating me. My body arched toward him, needing contact.

“So if you thought I was out with a woman… you showed up because you were jealous.”

I pouted a little as the smug smile stretched wider across his face. “I just needed to know who you’d pick to date.”

“You little brat.” He said it triumphantly, like he was deeply pleased now that all the pieces had clicked together. “Well you can rest easy. I don’t date.”

My insides vibrated with need now. Being this close to him after reaching such highs and lows of vulnerability, I needed him to touch me. Kiss me. Fuck me. Something.

“Fine. You don’t date.” I huffed. “But I know you can kiss.”

His gaze turned dark—almost predatory. “Are you asking me to kiss you?”

“You’re off the clock.” I reached for his chest, my fingers tripping over the contours of his chest through the soft polo shirt. I fisted the shirt, jerking him closer. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about those kisses in the VIP room, Seven. Please.”

The cocktail of expressions that crossed his face fascinated me. His heated gaze dragged down my body, then back up to my face.

“You make it hard to say no when you’re dressed like this.” His other arm left the wall, sliding around my waist. Soon, the space between our bodies evaporated. I was flush against his rock-hard body. Every inch of me sighed with relief, but I wanted more. So much more.

“Then don’t say no.” I sought his lips, but he dipped his head away.

“You know I’m supposed to,” he murmured.

“I don’t care.” I wriggled against him, squeezing my arms around his torso. I never wanted to leave this spot. I’d go to my grave cuddling with Seven at the back of this restaurant. He was worth it. “Don’t you feel the same way?”

His gaze grew darker, hungrier. “You have no fucking idea.”

“Then put us both out of our misery.”

He cupped the side of my face with his hand, a rough, warm palm sliding over my cheek and around the back of my head. Every inch of my body ignited with pinpricks as he dipped down, claiming my lips with his own. A kiss so hungry, so needy, emerged that I almost choked on the passion. His mouth crashed against mine, our tongues seeking, teeth bumping, small noises emerging as we feasted on each other’s kisses. Seven brought his other hand up, cradling my face, our kisses finding a sensual, desperate rhythm.

A rhythm that, if we were anywhere else, would send our clothes flying in mere moments.

His cock stiffened against my belly. I squeezed my arms tighter around his waist, rocking my hips in a slow circle against him. I was powerless to resist while he tongue-fucked me like this. I needed this and so much more. The chemistry between us threatened to level the whole building.

“Oh my God, Seven,” I moaned between kisses, clawing at his low back. “Please. More. I need more.”

He paused, smiling against my lips. The bathroom door creaked open further down the hall, causing him to jerk his head in that direction.

“Fuck, Jordan.” He drew a deep breath, shaking his head. “Okay. That’s enough.” The man looked positively drugged, his gaze stuck on my lips. I could see him second-guessing himself.

“Is it?” I asked with a small laugh. “I thought we were just getting started.”

“Don’t even tempt me,” he growled, his hands dropping to my waist, sliding down over my ass cheeks. He squeezed hard, eliciting a gasp. “That’s not how this shit works.”

“Then educate me”—I smoothed my hands along the collar of his shirt—“about how this shit works exactly.”

He met my gaze, his eyes hooded. “You go back to your friend, and I go back to mine. You have your girls night. I have my guys night. And then you go back to the apartment with Chico when you’re done.”

When I started to protest, he interrupted me, pressing a finger to my lips. “This is how it has to go. I’m not going to show my ass to my new guy on day one, and you’re not going to send me these pouty looks across the bar that have me ready to haul your ass over my shoulder and take you home myself.”

I bit back a laugh. “I don’t mind that last part of the plan.”

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