Page 16 of Moonlit Temptation

When my hacking was done, I looked up to find Saint standing in front of me with his arms crossed and a satisfied smirk on his beautifully smug face. Bastard.

“Remember that next time I tell you no, little dove.”

Little dove.

He’s never called me that before…

I shivered at the deep timbre of his voice, the way it rolled off his tongue with authority and warning.

It made me want him to tell me no just so I could disobey again. See how far I could push him into punishing me.

Visions and fantasies danced in my eyes as I stared at Saint, his eyes flaring in response before looking away from me.

Something was happening between us. Whether it was residual lust from the kinky restaurant or the potency of my pheromones, which were flaring up every other heartbeat, Saint was acting different.

Touching me more.

Teasing.

Sending me looks he shouldn’t.

Looks I wanted more of.

“Do a shot with me,” I blurted.

“I don’t do shots.”

I raised a brow. “Too old for them?”

“Alcohol is like a woman. It needs to be savored to be enjoyed.”

He had never been this open, this blatant with me.

“So are you saying a shot is a quick fuck?” I almost missed it, the reaction he had to me saying fuck. If I blinked, I would’ve missed his eyes honed in on my lips, narrowing with fervor. “Are those beneath you now?”

“I didn’t say that.” His lips twitched in amusement. “Quick fucks are fun and have a time and place, but there’s something about spending hours upon hours wrapped around a woman. Learning what makes her writhe, her scream. What makes that cute flush brush her cheeks, or what noises she makes and the cause behind them.”

We’d drawn closer as he talked, his words charging my skin as he painted images of him pleasuring a woman in my head.

Only in my head, the woman was me, and we were wrapped around the sheets in my hotel room.

Shots. I needed a shot right now.

I grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the bar. If we were going to talk about sex, I needed alcohol in my system.

But as I held up two fingers at the bartender, who was pouring a body shot onto a girl’s bare stomach, I wondered if this was the smartest idea.

I’d never been around Saint drunk, not that I planned on being that tonight since I actually wanted to remember my time with him, but one shot wouldn’t hurt.

Saint didn’t say a word at the bar, just hovered close behind me with a protective hand on my back.

The place was crowded, and Saint was being the protective lion he was, not letting any of the drunks bump into me.

I was very aware of his touch there. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as he leaned over my shoulder and told the bartender what vodka to pluck off the shelf.

It was from the highest one.

“Saint, I’m fine with cheap.”

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