Page 158 of The Last Good Man

Goosebumps rise on my neck, and tingles flash below my waist.

My fingers wrap around his wrist while my eyes dip into his gaze. A deep ocean of the unknown.

“You look beautiful, baby…” he says quietly, his warmth looping around me like invisible tendrils, his touch creating magnetic storms across my skin, his untarnished satisfaction disarming me, his voice rolling over my lips with candor and tenderness like never before.

His arm snakes around my waist while I fall into his chest. The top he wears is soft and warm, embalmed with his masculine scent.

I want to press my nose against it and inhale the essence of him, his warmth, the safety he provides.It’s a beautiful dream without monsters, and I’m eager to explore it with all my being.

Our lips collide,andwe kiss like it’s our first kiss.

With strands of hair moving over my skin, breaths dipped in heat, tension flaring, lips rolling, and tongues sliding.

The more we kiss, the harder I press myself into him,andthe more I feel his hard length against me.

He makes no secret out of it, tilting his hips and making me yearn for more than a kiss.

Tearing his lips away from me, he reaches back, takes my hand, and then presses it against his bulge.

His eyes don’t leave mine.

“I said a kiss,” I murmur.

His eyes narrow with a smile.

“You said so many things. Sweet little lies to fool yourself. You don’t believe any of them.”

“Nothing has changed,” I say in response. “If I give into you, you will fuck with my head so badly, I won’t recover. I don’t know how to do half–measures.”

He draws in a slow, strained breath before he speaks again.

“You can continue doing what you’ve been doing but you’ll only make things worse and prolong your misery.”

“Maybe I like it that way,” I say, giving him a sultry look.

He quietly laughs.

“I had no doubt you were a glutton for pain. And I can give you pain.”

I lean into him, grinning, tenderly kneading his bulge.

“Only if you reward me afterward.”

A chuckle peels off his lips.

“So you’re ready to cut a deal.”

“Maybe,” I say.

“Although nothing changes,” he continues.

“Mm-hmm.”

“You’re a tough negotiator.”

“I have no choice,” I say, intoxicated by his smell, rubbing his shaft harder through his pants.

Having alcohol in my blood makes me bold.

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