Page 91 of Captured Heart

He doesn’t like that. Not one bit. And to prove that he has no say, I stand and move around the table, closing the distance between us. He stiffens, his entire body locking up as I get closer.I stop in front of him, and slowly—so very slowly—I hike my skirt higher up my legs.

He catches one glimpse of my thighs and immediately looks away. “Katie.”

It’s a warning. I can hear it. But I pay it no mind.

I swing my leg over, straddling his lap, and his chains clink against the chair as he tries to shift away.

“Get off.”

He could shove me off, but instead, he pulls his hands in, keeping them close to his chest. He won’t dare touch me. The slightest caress will unravel him becauseIam the chink in his armor. I’m his weakness.

“You don’t want me to leave,” I say softly.

“I do.”

“You’re still lying.” I slowly lift his bound wrists above my head to loop his arms around me as I bring them down. “You’re trying to hurt me, push me away, because you want to hide how much you care about me.”

“You’re overestimating my feelings for you. You were a distraction that landed my ass right back in jail. I shut the door on whatever happened between us the second you left me there. So, no. I don’t give a single fuck about you, your dad, or this case. I just want you to leave me the hell alone so I can rot in this place in peace.”

For a moment, I falter, guilt gripping me in its unforgiving tentacles. But then I remind myself that this is a ploy, a tactic to keep me at a distance. I don’t fall for it because even as he spits this pure, undiluted venom at me, I feel him hardening between my legs.

“So, you don’t care about me?”

“No.” He keeps his eyes locked on mine, as if that will somehow convince me he’s telling the truth. It doesn’t.

I lean down slightly, brushing my lips just over his ear. “Do you ever think about me?”

“No.” The word is jagged, razor-edged, like he’s using it to cut right into me. It does, but I persist.

“Not even when you’re alone...late at night.” I press a soft, lingering kiss just below his ear, my fingers sliding up to the back of his neck. “You don’t think about how it felt to kiss me, to have your mouth on mine?”

He says nothing. The only response I get is the eager twitch of his cock against me.

“You don’t think about my legs wrapped around your waist, or me moaning your name in ecstasy.” A choked groan escapes him when I grind against his cock. “You don’t remember what it feels like to be on top of me...insideme?”

“No.” The word is expelled with a heavy, ragged exhale.

“You don’t remember the symmetry of a moment just like this one?” My lips ghost over the corner of his mouth. “When you had me chained to a bed, my legs spread wide for you...and you had your wicked way with me?”

That imagery is his undoing. He sucks in a sharp breath, shutting his eyes as if that will get rid of the memories flashing through his mind. It doesn’t work. I know it doesn’t because I feel another delicious twitch against my crotch.

Yet even though he’s barely hanging on by a thread, his stubbornness prevails. It’s possible he’s more stubborn than me.

He keeps his expression neutral and forces himself to remain indifferent. “You’re nothing but a distant memory now, so distant you’re almost forgotten.”

“Then let me remind you.” My fingers skim over his chest, trailing along the lines of his jumpsuit as I slowly undo the buttons.

His breath hitches, almost imperceptibly, but I catch it. “What are you doing?”

“The door’s locked...and I have you in here for an hour.”

It’s the sultry promise in my voice that makes his eyes widen slightly. My reputation as a prude must precede me because he stares at me in disbelief.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

He realizes I’m not bluffing when my fingers move over his defined abs to the drawstring of his pants. “Katie.”

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