Page 65 of The Chance

Just as there’s no misreading the pink tinting his cheeks. The smirk tugging up the side of his mouth. The molten way his navy blues stare back at me.

“You’re gonna regret this in the morning,” I rasp out and release his hair.

His features darken as he steps back.

My stomach plummets.

He takes another step back.

My jaw grinds.

Does he already regret it?

He reaches for the stove without looking and it beeps.

“Give me three days, Mac. I’ll regret it if youdon’t.”

Chapter Forty-Four

Jordan

I watch his jawtick with uncertainty.

His nostrils flare.

The hard set of his features.

Including his cock.

Goddamn, I’ve never wanted to see another man naked as bad as I do right now. Never wanted to touch. Never salivated over just the thought of how he might taste. Not even my dreams could have prepared me for this. For him.

For tasting his tongue and wantingmore.

Mac. Mac. Mac.

It’s like that kiss has finally released some part of me that I never plan on reining back in.

“Three days,” I repeat, my voice shot.

He trembles.

I reach back and tug my shirt off one-handed.

His gaze clashes with mine, loaded and hard, and he lifts his chin defiantly. “I won’t be your first.”

I shake my head, some of my hair falling into my eyes, and start to empty my pockets.

“I’m serious,” he strains. “Find someone else.”

My tongue curls around my lip, wetting it as I tip my head. “Who says I haven’t already tried that?”

His eyes flare, then narrow. “Bullshit.”

I reach for my belt, and he watches the movement so intently that my already solid length gets harder.

The leather makes a snap when I tug it free from the loops and let it drop to the floor.

“Vida,” I murmur, stalking closer until he’s backed up against the counter. His chest pumps with his breath, his spine arching away from me, his grip on the counter’s edge so tight that I see his knuckles go white. “I’ll always choose you.”

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