Page 78 of Picture Perfect

I trail my fingers higher, teasing the hem of her dress.

"Chess," she cuts in, her voice a warning wrapped in velvet. But I'm already lost to the impulse, curiosity piqued by the challenge she presents.

"Tell me no, Addy," I whisper, trying to coax the walls down brick by brick.

Her reply is silent, a sudden grab of my wrist as it inches too close to where the apex of her thighs hides beneath fabric. Her grip is iron, unyielding, and I'm caught—snared in the intensity of her green-eyed gaze.

There's a fire in those depths, one that warns me not to play games with something so combustible.

We're interrupted by the servers arriving to take away our plates. Before they have the chance to bring the dessert, Addy's chair pushes back. She stands with a grace that feels at odds with the tension radiating from her.

"Excuse me," she announces to the table, her voice even, "I need to use the restroom."

"Of course, dear," Mrs. Winthrop replies, her smile tight, eyes following me like a hawk tracking prey.

My gaze lingers on her as she walks away. The coil of anticipation unfurling in my gut tells me I won't be far behind. It's a game of cat and mouse, and I'm not sure which one I am.

Once Addy disappears down the hallway, I wait a few moments before excusing myself from the table. I'm eager to see what her next move will be.

The hallways of the Winthrop mansion are grand and luxurious, with ornate paintings hanging on the walls and quality marble underfoot. I find her leaning against a wall, her back to me. She doesn't turn around when she hears my approach.

"Are you following me?" she asks, her voice tight with unease. "Shouldn't you be at the table?"

"Shouldn't you?" I retort.

Addy stiffens at my touch but doesn't push me away. Her gaze flickers over my face, searching for something I can't quite decipher. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."

She snorts. "Right. Because that's exactly what you're worried about."

She's right. But I don't want to admit it. Instead, I take a step closer and lean against the wall, caging her in.

I lean in close to whisper in her ear. "Tell me to stop."

Addy shudders at my words, but there's something else in her expression now—a hunger that matches my own.

Without another word, I press my lips to hers in a fierce kiss. She responds eagerly, tangling her fingers in my hair as our bodies meld together in an intoxicating dance.

Chapter thirty-seven

Addy

He doesn't push me, but the air between us crackles with unspoken words and barely restrained desires. He watches me carefully, and I feel the weight of his attention like a physical touch.

"Chess," I start, but the words dissolve on my tongue as he reaches out, his fingers trailing up the sides of my body with deliberate slowness. I catch my breath, fighting the urge to lean into his touch.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," he says, his voice low.

It's all about consent, about wanting and being wanted, and despite everything, I can't bring myself to utter that simple command. His hands are warm against my skin, and I hate how much I crave the contact.

How do I keep allowing myself to be put in these situations?

"Addy?" he probes, searching my face for any sign of discomfort.

I shake my head ever so slightly, granting permission without words. There's a connection here, something raw and undeniable. I'm caught in his orbit, and for a moment, I allow myself to forget everything else.

"Okay then," Chess murmurs, his breath ghosting over my neck as his fingertips brush higher, drawing a shiver from deep within me.

The distance between hesitance and surrender is a breath, a heartbeat, a single decision. My back hits the cool surface of the wall, Chess's body pressing close, his gaze holding mine captive.

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