Page 91 of Brutal Obsession

That kiss is going to screw me up forever.

I fidget, crossing my legs one way, then the other. I’m finally starting to settle when Cian releases my hand and places his palm on my thigh.

“You all right?” He’s close to my ear, his warm breath fanning the side of my neck.

“Mmhmm.” I adjust a little more as a shiver zips down my spine at Cian’s proximity. “Doing great.”

Cian rubs his hand down my thigh to my knee and back again. “You seem nervous.”

“Aren’t you?” The question escapes before I can recall it.

When Cian’s lips press a soft kiss to my cheek, surprise pulls me toward him. Whatever’s on my face makes him chuckle.

“Maybe a little.”

“Really?”

My voice sounds strange to my ears. But it’s not as strange as the idea of Cian being nervous.

I can’t imagine anything throwing him off his game.

He shrugs. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“I just thought that…”

“Enforcers have the emotional capacity of a sandwich.” Cian finishes my thought with an unhappy smirk. “Am I right?”

A small smile props up my lips. “I was going to say potato, but sandwich works too.”

He huffs as the first-class flight attendant—we get our own private staff up here—comes by to grab our pre-flight alcohol orders. I order a glass of vodka large enough to fill a gas tank, which Cian downgrades to a regular glass of white wine. Theonly reason I don’t correct him is because I’m shocked he knows what I like.

He notices my attention. “What?”

“How did you know I like white wine?”

Something shifts on Cian’s face. He almost seems a little…awkward. “Don’t all women?”

He’s hedging.

“No, they don’t.” I sit back in my captain’s chair and pin him down with my stare. “How did you knowIdo?”

Cian gazes straight ahead. “Lucky guess.”

“Look me in the eye and say that.”

When he removes his hand from my thigh, I grab it with both of mine. The sensation that hits when all ten of my fingers connect with his palm prompts us to look at each other.

My cheeks itch, which must mean they’re pink. I barely remember what we were just talking about.

“Um…”

I’m the awkward one now. I attempt to release Cian’s hand, but he doesn’t let me pull away. He intertwines our fingers for the hundredth time today, holding my gaze steady with his own.

“I remembered.” His expression is a blank slate, neutral, real. No mask. No arrogance. No phony, playboy charm. “That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it?”

I can only nod, because he’s so exquisite to me in this moment that my mouth refuses to function.

“I remember everything about that night.” Cian’s words spur my pulse into a gallop. “How could I forget the night I almost had you?”

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