Page 34 of Desperate Actions

What are you doing, Aella?

What the actual hell are you doing?

Sammy Ramirez is holding me, his hands locked around my waist, his body heat and muscle and dangerous intent pressed firmly against mine.

And I just handed him my deepest secret on a silver platter.

His entire body stiffens.

He pulls back just enough to see my face, his hazel eyes burning into mine.

“You’re a virgin,” he says.

Not a question.

A statement.

The kind of statement that drags across my skin like rough velvet, the weight of it sinking into my bones.

I nod, my pulse pounding in my ears.

His jaw flexes, his grip tightening.

“You been saving yourself for someone special, Aella?”

I nod again, my heart a drumbeat of pure adrenaline.

His gaze darkens, something shifting behind it.

Something dangerous.

Something devastating.

“Why are you telling me?”

His voice is low, thick with something I can’t name.

I feel it in the way his chest moves, the tension rippling through him, the way his fingers flex on my waist like he’s barely holding himself back.

I wet my lips with the tip of my tongue, summoning every last shred of courage I have.

Because if I don’t say this now, I never will.

“Because I’ve been saving myself for you.”

Silence.

Thick.

Unrelenting.

Silence. And it is loud.

A single beat of pure, unfiltered tension fills the entire cabin before his lips open.

“Stop the fucking limo.”

His voice is a growl, rough and final, as he slams his palm against the intercom button.

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