Page 44 of Broken Pact

My lungs expand with the realization. I don’t bother smothering the satisfied grin on my face.

I wasn’t sure before, but now I am.

She’s gonna say yes.

22

JASPER

She sidesteps me, stalking to the other side of my room. She rakes her hands through her hair and whirls around, her dress and hair flying out behind her.

“That is why we need rules,” she breathes out, her gaze trailing down my torso. It snags on my cock doing his best to bust out of these gray sweatpants.

And fuck me do I feel it like a physical caress. Her gaze narrows on me as if she’s anticipating my objection.

I drag my hand over my hair, and if my biceps flex with the movement, well that can’t be helped, can it?

I drag my teeth along my bottom lip and step toward her. She’s tough as hell, I’ll give her that. I don’t think Coraline Carter has ever backed down from a fight in her life, and today is no exception. She angles her proud chin higher, her fists clenched at her sides.

“You think rules will save you from me, baby?” My voice is low, a soft tenor reserved only ever for her.

“I don’t need saving, Jagger,” she practically snarls.

I arch a brow, surprised I hit a nerve so easily. She doesn’t usually show her cards so quickly. But it’s been years since I’ve been this close to her for this long.

Years since she kissed me like that. Since she pressed that perfect body of hers against mine.

The taste of her fucks me up a little bit, wraps around me and goes straight to my cock.

I tilt my head to the side and take another step, keeping my voice low, steady. “You sure about that, baby?” I watch the way her cheeks flush, the red spreading down her neck and across the tops of her breasts. I feel like a starved man, a barely caged beast just pacing the small expanse of my self-imposed cage.

Or maybe it’s one that she put me in all those years ago.

Now it’s her turn to step into me. The tips of her sneakers butt up against mine, the rubber soles of her Vans squeaking against my wood floor. Her brows lower over her gorgeous eyes in dark slashes of accusation. “Are you really going to sit there and throw that shit in my face? I didn’t ask you to help me at the concert. I didn’t need your help three years ago, and I sure as hell don’t need it now, Reaper.”

She spits the club name like it’s something foul in her mouth. And I find that chained up beast perk up at the attention, like she’s speaking directly to him.

I lean in and drag my mouth along the shell of her ear. The only place our bodies are touching. The inches that separate the rest of us fizzle with sparking energy. “You can lie to yourself, baby, but I know the truth.”

She inhales and her nipples brush against my chest. The thin fabric of her sundress doing absolutely nothing to contain them. She sucks in a breath at the contact, or maybe she’s gearing up to lay into me.

I fucking hope she is. Coraline Carter is beautiful, but when she’s mad, she’s fucking magnificent. She’s like some otherworldly creature, spitting fire and burning bridges in her wake without a single care. It’s fucking mad how much it turns me on.

Which isn’t saying much. Seems like everything she does turns me on. Which is a big fucking problem when she hasn’t so much as touched me in years.

Until this morning.

When she came here, looking for me, kissing me.

“You’re unbelievable,” she hisses, her breath warming my neck.

“You fucking love it,” I murmur, dragging my lips over that secret spot behind her ear. It’s a little patch of nerve endings that sends goosebumps cascading down her body.

And sure enough, a shiver skates down her spine a moment later. The purest form of male satisfaction fills me, balloons my ego until I feel like a fucking peacock, ready to strut about.

Her hands slide over my chest in smooth arcs, stopping to rest right over my pecs. My lips part on a silent sigh, my fingertips tingling with anticipation to feel her smooth skin again. And then she shoves, pushing me back a step.

“No touching. Rule number one.”

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