Page 127 of Offside Devil

The door seals closed and the thrumming music and voices are gone like the world outside doesn’t exist—and when Zane locks the door and turns to me, it might as well not.

“You’re supposed to be at home, Mira.” His eyes scrape over my body. “You told me you were going to be at home. In my house. With me.”

I shake my head. “You weren’t there.”

“Because you were.” He stalks towards me slowly, moving like he wants to stop himself but he can’t.

“I d-don’t—What does that mean?” I match every one of his steps with one of my own, backing away from him until my thighs hit something cold and hard. It’s a sink, as it turns out. We’re in a very nice bathroom, but there isn’t time to look around because Zane is in front of me, eating up every drop of my attention.

He brackets his hands around my throat.. He’s barely touching me, but I feel it in my toes. In my spine.

I feel Zane in every pulsing, shattered, desperate part of me despite how hard I worked to keep him out.

“I came out tonight to get away from you.” His lips whisper over my skin. “If I stayed home, I was going to do something stupid. But then I looked up, and there you fucking were. With him.”

His hand tightens around the base of my throat. He could squeeze if he wanted. He could pin me against the wall, yell, scream, hit me, hurt me.

But he doesn’t. I know he won’t.

Which is why the scrape of his teeth over my pulse point doesn’t scare me; it sends heat unspooling inside of me.

“I saw his arm around you and I wanted to rip it from the socket. You didn’t want to go to dinner with me, but you were out with some asshole, and I—I’m losing my fucking mind, Mira.”

“Because I’m yours?” I whisper.

Zane goes still. “Is that a question?”

It could be a statement. If my past didn’t exist—if there wasn’t an unbroken string of men in my life who did nothing but hurt me—then I could tell Zane the truth. Because I certainly don’t belong to anyone else. There is no one else. I’m not sure there ever will be.

“Are you asking because you aren’t sure or because you want to hear it again?” He kisses the soft skin beneath my ear. “Either way, here’s the answer: you’re mine.”

My body is starting to shut down from the sheer pleasure of hearing those words from Zane’s mouth. I have to grab the front of his shirt to stay standing.

“It wasn’t ever a question,” he adds. “Not once.”

“It was for me,” I breathe. “You’re not the easiest man to read.”

Suddenly, he tugs on the roots of my hair, angling my head back and forcing my eyes to his. “Then let me show you in a way you can’t misunderstand.”

50

MIRA

Zane’s mouth hovers close to mine. I close my eyes, waiting for him to kiss me. He grabs my dress instead, his hands fisted on either side of the zipper. My eyes snap open when the material rips.

“What are you—Zane!”

“This is how I met you,” he growls, letting the ruined dress puddle around my feet so I’m in nothing but my underwear.

I can’t worry about what I’m going to wear out of here when he’s looking at me like this. I can’t even imagine getting out of here.

Because we’re going to die in this bathroom. Cause of death: excessive horniness.

I reach for the buttons of his shirt, but he catches my wrist and spins me around to face the mirror. Twining his fingers through mine, Zane drags my own hands over my stomach and higher.

“You told me you touched herself while thinking of me.” He bites the side of my neck, hard. Then he kisses away the pain. “Show me.”

“Zane…” It’s a sigh, a plea. My body is on fire, and I’ve touched myself enough for a lifetime. I want to feel him.

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