Page 10 of Wicked and Ruthless

He tightened his fingers around her.

“Four, three, two…

“You,” he growled, dragging in her familiar musky-sweet scent that had always been his undoing. “I want you.”

Fuck, one look, one touch, and she threatened to shatter the walls he’d constructed around his heart.

But that’s the way it had always been. The pull between them was so goddamn strong…

“One. Happy New Year!”

Nash surged forward, dragging Haisley against him. Their chests collided. She let out a whimper, her fingers tangling in his shirt. Then his mouth crashed onto her soft lips in a searing, desperate kiss. With a gasp, she thawed against him and kissed him back.

People whooped and hollered around them. Celebratory music started up. Glasses clinked and laughter ensued. All of it faded to a distant hum as he lost himself in Haisley and the sensual flavor of her mouth. Her fucking taste felled him… Sweet, light, so achingly familiar, just like her curves.

He was drowning, dying. The sensual overload threatened to undo him.

Instead of backing away, finding his breath, and collecting his thoughts before he did something really stupid—like tell her he was still in love with her—he lifted Haisley off her feet and carried her to the nearest wall. Without a second thought, he pressed her against the mirror-clad surface, pinned her with his body, and deepened their kiss.

Nash half expected her to protest. But no. She threw her arms around his neck and parted her lips wider.

That was all the invitation he needed.

He drove his tongue into Haisley’s mouth possessively, thrilled as fuck when she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his hips. He gripped her ass in his hands, dying to devour her, to lose himself in her intoxicating embrace. She had to feel how hard he was for her, like he’d always been.

God, he’d give anything to erase the last two years.

As suddenly as he’d kissed her, Haisley wrenched free, her chest heaving. She stared up at him, her eyes shimmering with a firestorm of unspoken emotions. “I can’t do this.”

Her trembling whisper nearly took him out at the knees.

Nash brushed a calloused thumb across her cheek and searched her gaze. “Why? Tell me what the hell happened between us.”

Tears pooled in her eyes. Her pain, her raw vulnerability, was like a stab to the heart. “Nash, I…”

“What?”

“I can’t do this. Again. With you.”

He strained to hear her whisper above the din of the rowdy crowd. But in that moment, as far as he was concerned, no one existed except them.

“What can’t you do? Talk to me? Touch me? I don’t understand.”

Haisley bit her lip to hold back tears and shoved out of his embrace. “I know.”

The loss of her touch left him frozen and aching. “But I don’t. Spell it out.”

She shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks. “Please believe me… It’s better this way.”

When she tried to push past him, he grabbed her arm. Yeah, he knew he was riding a dangerous line. No meant no, and he respected that. But he wasn’t trying to force her to have sex with him; he just wanted answers.

“The fuck it is. Why did you walk away?”

She yanked free and retreated. “It’s in the past. Leave it there.”

Without another word, she fled, disappearing into the throng of partygoers.

Nash watched, cursing under his breath. He ran a hand through his hair, bitter regret burning his tongue. Why wouldn’t Haisley talk to him, tell him what had upset her? Why wouldn’t she tell him what the hell had torn them apart?

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