Page 76 of The Last Good Man

My grin fades.

“What exactly?”

A soft smile tugs at his lips as he shrugs a shoulder.

“I don’t know yet. That’s why I want to give you a try.”

“Huh… You want to give me a try?”

I laugh at his cheekiness, and he flashes an amused grin.

“Yeah. Why not? I don’t see a problem with that.”

He cleverly set me up and just made his move.

He does see a problem with it since he knows we belong to two different worlds, buthewants me to express my doubts so he can argue with me.

“You assume I have no say in this,” I say.

Evading my eyes, he smiles.

“You don’t have a say, baby. You like me,” he murmurs, his smile broadening. “You’re just trying to figure out if you want to get in bed with meor not.”

When he lifts his gaze and meets my eyes, he must see the stunned expression on my face.

“Isn’t it?” he asks, straightening and reachinginsidehis jacket for a cigarette.

“I don’t think you can smoke in here,” I say while he slides his cigarette between his lips and clicks the lighter open.

Paying me no attention, he lights his cigarette.

Afineribbon of smoke billows up in the air as he moves closer to the window.

He cracks it open despite the wind and rain creating havoc outside and props it with his frame so it doesn’t fly off its hinges.

The wind messes with my hair, and I struggle to keep it in place when he slides his fingers into the back of my mane, awakening my body.

It’s been a while.

Still gripping the back of my hair, he lowers himself on the window sill, forcing me to come to him.

The only way to have his hand on me and not fall is to tuck myself between his legs.

My thighs are locked in place, and his heat flows through my dress.

“You said no sex,” I murmur.

He takes a drag, blows the smoke to the side, and curves his lips into a smile.

“This isn’t sex, baby,” he says, the tingles between my thighs promptly disagreeing.

No matter how far back I go, I can’t remember a circumstance in which I was so turned on by the simple presence of a man.

Petrified, I look at him as he moves his fingers through my hair.

“Isn’t it, baby?” he rasps quietly. “You don’t know what to do with me. And if my instinct is right, you’re also scared of me.”

“I’m not scared.”

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