Page 20 of Forbidden Billionaire Rockstar

Mallory groans loudly and shakes her head. “You are infuriating, and I want you to stay the hell out of my life. Who asks me out is none of your business, so stay out of it.”

“I mean, he’s the one who came up to me.”

She glares at me and takes a tentative forward. “I don’t give a shit what he did. I just want you to leave it the hell alone.”

“You’re right,” I say softly.

Mallory blinks, then frowns and looks away from me. “Well, that was easier than I thought it would be.”

As if just remembering, she stormed into my room, she shakes her head and glances around. “Oh, shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

Right as she turns to walk past me, her eyes land on my bare chest, and she glides her tongue slowly along her lips just like she did the night before.

Our eyes lock. The air between us crackles with unspoken words and suppressed desires.

The smart thing would be to step back, to reinforce the walls we’ve so carefully constructed. But when it comes to Mallory, my intelligence always seems to short-circuit.

My hand moves of its own accord, cupping her cheek. Her skin is velvet beneath my calloused fingertips, a stark contrast that sends a shiver down my spine. She leans into the touch, a movement so slight I might have imagined it, but it’s enough to unravel the last threads of my self-control.

I lean in, my heart thundering in my chest. I can feel the warmth of her breath and smell the faint trace of her perfume. It’s intoxicating, a sensory overload.

To hell with smart.

I close the final distance between us, my lips meeting hers in a kiss that's both gentle and desperate. It's a dam breaking, a culmination of months of tension and longing. Her lips are soft and yielding, yet there's an underlying hunger in the way she responds.

The taste of her is intoxicating – a hint of mint and something uniquely Mallory. The world narrows to the points where our bodies connect: the press of her lips, the brush of her fingers in my hair, the warmth of her body against mine.

For a moment, there’s only Mallory - the taste of her, the feel of her body pressing closer, the small sound she makes in the back of her throat. It’s everything I’ve imagined and nothing like I expected, all at once.

As the kiss deepens, Mallory’s fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer, I can’t bring myself to care. For now, she’s mine.

And I’m entirely, irrevocably hers.

7

Mallory

My lungs forget howto function as I drink in the sight of Jace’s bare chest. It’s a cruel reminder of what I can’t have, what I shouldn’t want. The room suddenly feels too small, too warm, too... everything.

The air is thick with the scent of Jace's cologne, a heady mix of sandalwood and pine. I can hear the soft hum of the air conditioning, a stark contrast to the thundering of my heart. The plush carpet beneath my feet feels too soft, making me unsteady, or maybe that's just the effect Jace has on me.

Is it hot in here?

I steal a quick glance around the room, anywhere that will get my eyes off him, and take in the sight of the steam rollinginto the bedroom from the bathroom. Great, he was just getting ready to head into the shower.

Jace is standing there, jaw ticking as he stares at me, and I step closer to him. “You don’t get to determine who I spend my time with.”

He nods. “Okay.”

“Great, that’s settled,” I mutter under my breath.

Jace hums in response but doesn’t make a move to get away from me — if anything, it appears we’ve only gotten closer to each other. I shake my head, step to the side, and make my way back over to the door with my head held high. As soon as my hand lands on the doorknob, Jace’s shadow looms over me, and he’s gripping my hips.

When he spins me around, there’s a level of heat in his eyes that I haven’t seen before, and he sighs. “You’re a siren song, Mallory. Beautiful, irresistible... and dangerous as hell.”

I shake my head because I’ve lost the ability to talk with him standing so close to me. The shower is still spraying in the bathroom, and steam is rolling through the crack in the door, coating the room heavily in condensation.

My heart races, a drum of desire and panic. I should leave, I know I should, but my feet remain rooted to the spot, betraying my better judgment.

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