Page 72 of House of Lies

“Thanks,” I say, getting to my feet so I can put the book away. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Books should be read. Dry subject, though.”

I quirk an eyebrow at him. “So you’re only in it for the money, then?”

“It’s the family business, actually. Of course, things worked a little differently back in my great-grandfather’s day.”

“Is your family still involved in the business?”

“I’m the only one left.” Ethan’s gray eyes darken. “My mother died shortly after giving birth to me. My father threw himself into his work. If I wanted to spend time with him, I had to do it in his workshop. Lung cancer got him in the end.”

I slowly set the book down on the coffee table beside my glass of wine. “I’m so sorry. That must be awful.”

He hands me the charger, and I roll it into a bundle before setting it down on top of the book. “Wasn’t a surprise. He smoked two packs a day for most of his life.”

He stares at the book, but it’s as if he’s looking back into the past.

“Left behind a lot of clients. I could have followed a different path, but it was easier to pick up where he left off.”

I hesitate, and then draw my necklace out from behind my hoody. “So…since you’re such an expert, can you tell me what kind of gem this one is?”

His gaze flicks to the pendant and then gives it a double take.

There’s a sudden intensity in his eyes as he steps closer, attention glued to the gemstone. I gingerly release it to him when he slides his fingers under the heavy stone, staring up at him through my lashes. His eyes shift almost imperceptibly as he studies the stone, irises dilating and contracting ever so slightly as they move over the stone.

A tingle goes through me when he makes eye contact again.

“Breathtaking,” he says, and I don’t think he’s talking about the gemstone anymore.

The kiss shouldn’t have caught me off guard.

He tenses. His irises flood his pupils. His lips part.

But he moves so suddenly it feels like an attack.

His lips crash into mine, warm and powerful and smooth, his hands delving into my hair to keep my head in place. I’m immediately breathless, panting, swaying like I’ve had three bottles of wine all to myself as his mouth sends a drunken swoon through my body.

He grabs the small of my back, forcing our bodies together, his other hand still tangled in my hair.

I kiss him back voraciously, urgently, almost desperately. My hands come up, fingertips sinking deep into his pecs. Pushing him away, but clawing into him at the same time.

Making him fight for it.

A growl escapes him. Shit, have I triggered the beast inside him? He grabs my ass in both hands and hoists me up against the closest bookshelf, holding me in place as he crushes into my apex with the ridge of his hard cock.

I gasp into our kiss as he grinds his shaft against my clit, sending a wave of bliss crashing through me. Instead of clawing at him, my hands slide over his broad shoulders and latch onto the back of his neck. Muscles cord under my fingers as he pins me, stealing my breath as our kiss intensifies.

There’s wetness between my legs, soaking into the sweats where the fabric is trapped between us. I turn my head away, embarrassed, my cheeks growing hot.

Ethan chases my mouth with his, drawing me back into a kiss before pulling back.

“You don’t belong to me,” he growls into the side of my neck.

What the hell is that supposed to mean? My head reels as he spins me around, my body jolting—not unpleasantly—against his as he walks across the room. I gasp when he releases me and I fall, but my panic is snuffed out when my back hits the cool leather of the three-seater sofa in the reading nook.

There’s a faux-fur throw hanging over the back, and I accidentally claw it off as I’m groping to sit up again.

Ethan snatches it off the sofa and lifts me up like I don’t weigh a thing, dragging the deliciously soft fur under my body before settling down on top of me.

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