Page 49 of Claiming Pretty

But my body… my body was caught in Ty’s orbit, pulled toward him against my will.

This was dangerous. Ty was dangerous. And yet I couldn’t bring myself to walk away.

My heart raced, my resolve weakening with every second spent in his presence.

You’re with Ciaran,I reminded myself again, clinging to the thought like a lifeline.You love Ciaran.

“Relax,” Ty said, his fingers massaging my shoulders, his tone laced with amusement. “You’re acting like I bite.”

“You don’t?” I shot back, trying to sound casual, trying to play off the heat coursing through me.

“Only if you ask nicely,” he replied in my ear, his smirk audible in his voice.

“I’mwithCiaran!” I snapped and stepped aside so his hands slid off me.

His gaze never wavered, his dark, penetrating eyes assessing me in that maddening way that made me want to shove him away or pull him closer.

“For now,” he said simply, his tone cool, but the words landed like a challenge.

I bristled, the steam from the stove dampening myalready overheated neck. “It’s always a game with you, isn’t it?”

His expression didn’t soften, his lips didn’t quirk into that cocky grin. Instead, his voice was low, steady. “I like winning.”

I shook my head, my resolve crumbling under his intensity. “You can’t win if I don’t play.”

He stepped closer, his body an inferno against mine. The stove’s warmth paled in comparison to the fire licking through me as his breath fanned my cheeks.

“Don’t forget, Ava,” he whispered, his voice dangerous. “We were children together. I know youloveto play.”

I slid out of his reach and walked to the other side of the kitchen, rummaging around in a drawer for something to do.

But as we continued to cook, Ty moved around me, adding the bucatini to the boiling salted water, adding fresh herbs to the sauce, grating aged parmesan into a small bowl. His body kept brushing against mine, his scent—musk and sandalwood—filling my nose until he was all that I could smell.

I tried to tell myself that I was just imagining his nearness, just imagining that his casual touches were just accidents.

Ty leaned closer again, stretching for a wooden spoon near me. This time, there was no mistaking the hardness of his cock pressing into my lower back.

Heat flushed through me, and I snapped.

“Stop it,” I hissed, crossing my arms as I turned to face him.

“Stop what?” he asked, feigning innocence, his calm expression betrayed by the glint of mischief in his eyes.

Asshole. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Stop…that.” I waved a hand vaguely in his direction, trying to encompass the infuriating combination of his dark smile, his wandering hands, and how inappropriately close his half-naked body was—goddamn, what a body.

His smirk deepened, sharp enough to cut.

“Well, if I’m going to be blamed for something,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “I might as well make it count.”

Before I could respond, he closed the space between us and crushed his lips to mine.

His hands gripped the back of my neck, firm but not painful, while his mouth was the opposite—soft, warm, intoxicating.

My resolve crumbled before I could stop it, my body betraying me as I melted into him.

Just for a moment.

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