Page 153 of Under an Endless Moon

She took a sip of her wine, never breaking our stare. “That’s what I want, Otto. I want you to stand in the fire with me.”

A charge struck the air.

A crackle of greed.

Electricity.

Hunger curled through my guts.

I took a sip of the wine, the tart but fruity flavor on my tongue, my gaze glued to hers before I set the glass aside. I reached out and ran my fingertips down the sharp angle of her cheek, overcome with the urge to touch her.

“Thought we discussed that we were going to forget about what happened last night and this morning?”

Raven leaned into the bare connection, her voice going raspy. “You know that I can’t, even if I wanted to. And you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want it, too.”

Keen eyes flashed with the challenge.

“What fuckin’ man wouldn’t want you, Raven? What man wouldn’t want to get lost in this fuckin’ perfect body? Wouldn’t want to get lost in these eyes?”

My fingers brushed the corner of her right eye before I moved to settle my hand over the raging in her chest. “Who wouldn’t want to get lost in this kind, magnificent, brave heart?”

She tipped up her chin. “I don’t want any of those men.”

“Fuck, Raven.” It was a last-ditch effort that only served as a call.

“Tell me you don’t want me,” she demanded.

I had her hoisted in my arms and propped on the island before I could even make sense of the movement.

A knee-jerk reaction.

My hips wound between her lush legs, my jean-covered cock pressed up close to her mind-numbing heat.

Raven gasped, and her glass clinked against the granite as sheset it aside. One second later, her arms were around my neck, holding on but leaning back far enough that she could read every desire scored on my face.

“I’m not what you need, Raven.” It fucking hurt saying it. Thinking of some squirrely motherfucker’s hands on her. Sharing meals with her. Curling up with her at night. Putting a baby in her belly. Lucky bastard getting to live in this tight, hot body.

“I know exactly what I need,” she refuted.

My hands glided down her sides until they were cinching around her waist. Half in possession and half in restraint.

Leaning in, I ran my nose along the delicate flesh of her neck, inhaling that intoxicating moonflower scent. Voice a rumble of reticence. “Don’t you see? I’m no good. No fuckin’ good. I can’t be the one to hurt you. I can’t.”

The words cracked on my desperation. With the plea for her to see.

I rocked back in surprise when her hands suddenly shoved against my shoulders.

Girl a flame.

A fire.

She slid off the edge of the counter and onto her feet. Appearing so damned tall, a force of nature, spite and determination in her stance.

She shoved me again.

“Don’t you dare tell me what I need, Otto Hudson. Don’t you dare. And don’t you dare try to convince me that you’re not a good man because that’s a lie, too.”

Clenching my jaw, I forced myself to move across the kitchen from her. Searching for a way to put an eternity between us all while wanting to erase every inch that could ever separate.

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