Page 61 of Inked Adonis

He steps closer, until I’m backed against Rufus’s crate. The metal is cold through my shirt, but Sam... Sam is all heat.

“But make no mistake.” His voice drops lower, rougher. “When you finally come to my bed, it won’t be because of bargains or negotiations.”

My heart thunders against my ribs as he leans in, his lips almost brushing my ear. “It’ll be because neither of us can stand to be anywhere else.”

I want to argue. Want to maintain some semblance of control. But my body betrays me, arching slightly into his heat, seeking more of that electric connection that sparks between us whenever we’re close.

His eyes darken as he notices, and for a moment, I think he’ll kiss me. Want him to kiss me, even though it would prove his point.

Instead, he pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, letting me see the raw hunger there. The promise.

His hand falls away from my face, but the ghost of his touch lingers and burns.

“The guest room is yours tonight.” His voice has returned to that controlled timbre, but something molten still lurks beneath. “Sweet dreams, little fighter.”

I watch him walk away. My heart pounds with equal parts triumph and frustration. For each step he takes, something in my chest cinches tighter and tighter.

The click of his bedroom door echoing through the penthouse should feel like victory. I got what I wanted—my conditions met, my autonomy respected.

So why does it feel like I’ve lost something essential?

For the first time since this strange dance began, I wonder if we’re both getting in deeper than either of us intended.

In his crate, Rufus lets out a dramatic sigh.

Yeah, buddy. Same.

21

NOVA

I can’t take my eyes off the one hand he’s got on the steering wheel.

Mostly because, after last night, it’s the only part of him I can look at without erupting into flames.

“Keep staring at my hand and I might be forced to show you some of its other talents while I drive,” he drawls, making me jump in my seat.

I hide my face so he can’t see how red my cheeks are. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Nova.” The way he says my name—like dark chocolate melting on his tongue—should be illegal. “You’ve been gawking since we left the penthouse.”

“I was making sure you follow traffic laws,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. “You did say you were a criminal.”

“Yes, but a criminal with a code.” His lips quirk. “I always signal before turning.”

I want to say something bitchy and clever, but my brain short-circuits every time I remember last night. We got so close to the cliff’s edge ofDo Not Fucking Go Herethat it still makes my chest do strange little squiggles every time I think about it. His smell, his eyes, all of it so up close and personal and consuming every fucking bit of me that it’s a miracle I didn’t spontaneously combust…

And now, here I am, taking him to meet my grandmother like some lovesick teenager. The thought makes my chest tight. Grams isn’t just family—she’s my anchor, my North Star, the only person who’s loved me unconditionally since I was born.

I’ve never brought a man to meet her. Not once.

I asked for this last night. Specifically requested it, as a matter of fact. I entered aliteral fucking negotiationwith aliteral fucking mob bossto engineer this exact outcome.

So explain the panic swallowing me whole. I sure can’t.

We pull up to Legacy Retirement Village, and anxiety claws up my throat. I grab Sam’s forearm before he can open his door. “Wait.”

He turns those gunmetal eyes on me, one dark brow raised.

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