Page 110 of Under the Lies

More, I want to moan, but there’s no space for words. No wasted breath, not when Noah’s too busy stealing mine with the way he holds me. The way he’s devouring me.

More, more, more. I pull at his hair, his neck. The more I touch him, the harder I kiss him back, the more he melts under my touch. That anger thawing into something else. Something more.

Calming. Savoring.

His lips move down my neck, finding the sweet hollow spot that has me gasping under his match.

He’s the fire and I’m the kindling. He feeds me, burning me from the inside out and making me forget where we are or how we got here or what happens next.

I’m not focused on anything except—

He pushes me back hard enough for the shelf to wobble. I pull away with wide, dazed eyes.

The library. We’re in the public library.

Noah’s forehead goes to mine. “God, Sayer. What’re you doing to me?”

Husky and like sandpaper, his voice has my heart pounding.

“Why don’t you tell me?” I challenge in a whisper. Surprised I can even get that much out as I stare at his lips and resist the urge to bring them back to mine, wishing they traveled to other places as well.

“You’re a siren sent to tempt me.”

“And do I tempt you?”

I lean in close only for him to pull back. Heat simmering in his gaze.

“More than I anticipated.”

An elevator closing isn’t as satisfying as the sound of a slamming door. How I long for the sharp, angry sound of a good door slam right now.

“NOAH!” I yell, stomping into the apartment.

I get no answer.

But I know he’s here.

He wasn’t at the club. He wasn’t at the casino.

When I called Thea to ask where her asshat of a friend was after he took it upon himself to ruin my day, she told me he went home to work.

He never works from home.

Which lets me know he orchestrated this on purpose.

“NOAH! YOU STUPID PRICK!” I stomp toward the steps, taking them two at a time until I reach his office.

The door crashes into the wall as I throw it open.

There he is. Sitting at his desk. Waiting for me.

“You yelled?” His hands are folded behind his head.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Each word is spat through gritted teeth.

“What’s wrong, BB?” he asks, grinning.

“You towed my car!”

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