“It must kill you,” she whispered, “to still want me so much.”

He stayed still and silent and watchful, as if nothing she said affected him. As if her words, her touch meant nothing to him.

What liars they both were.

But just because she was a liar didn’t mean she couldn’t be brave.

It was her turn to dismantle him.

Keeping her hands on his chest, she stepped back far enough that her arms straightened. Then, she slowly, slowly, trailed her hands down. Noted the contrast in the steadiness of his gaze against the unevenness of his breathing. The softness of his shirt covering the hard planes of his abdomen. His solid, rooted stance and the way his stomach muscles jumped and twitched under her fingers.

“Look how hard you fight it,” she said softly. “Look how desperate you are not to want me.” She barely, barely brushed the very tips of her fingers down the zipper of his jeans over the visible bulge of his hard cock. His hips pressed forward. His breathing came faster. With a small, satisfied hum, she cupped him through his jeans. “But look how badly you do.”

Wrapping his fingers around her wrist, he tugged her hand away. “Tabitha… what are you doing?”

“I’m taking control. And proving I hold my own power.”

Holding his gaze, letting him keep hold of her wrist, she slowly, gracefully, lowered herself to her knees.

Chapter 28

Stunned, all Miles could do was stare down at Tabitha. She looked almost innocent, sitting on her heels, her head tipped back slightly, the gold of her hair spilling down her back. Almost demure with her free hand resting on her thigh as she looked up at him from under her lashes.

Submissive, kneeling at his feet, her wrist caged by his fingers, her hand inches from his cock.

But there was nothing innocent about the awareness in her eyes. The knowledge she had of him. Of what he was made of.

How terrified he was of how much he wanted her.

Nothing coy about her confidence.

Her courage.

Nothing meek about her testing him this way.

Pushing him.

“You don’t have to fight it anymore,” Tabitha murmured, her voice skimming along his skin like cool silk. “You don’t have to pretend this isn’t exactly what you want. Me, on my knees for you.” She paused, looking up at him with a steadying, knowing gaze. “You don’t have to hold anything back.”

A whooshing sound filled his head as lust roared through him like a tornado, tearing down his defenses. Sweeping away his denial of her words.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” His words were quiet. Raw.

True.

“Maybe not. But you do want me to pay for bruising your ego. For hurting your precious pride.”

He shook his head. “Not like this. Never like this.”

“I can take it. Whatever you give me—your anger and pain. I can take them both. I want whatever you’re willing to share with me.”

His fingers tightened on her wrist, his cock twitched.

“I’m stronger than you think,” she continued. “And I’m not afraid of anything that has to do with you. I’ve never, not once, been afraid of you. I trust you, Miles. I’ve always trusted you.” She took a long, deep breath. “But you can’t keep pretending you don’t feel anything for me. You can’t keep hiding behind our past. You need to prove you trust me, too.”

He wasn’t sure he could.

And she knew it. He saw it in the flash of disappointment in her eyes. Heard it in the challenge of her tone. She knew it and was daring him to admit it.