Page 47 of Desperate Actions

I had a plan tonight.

A backup suite. A space I reserved just in case this happened.

Just in casewehappened.

And now?

We are fucking happening. Of that, I am damn sure.

There’s no turning back now. Not for me. Not for her.

I reach the door, punch in the code the hotel assigned me, and step inside.

Together.

Aella glances around, chewing on her lower lip, nerves flickering across her face.

I grip her chin, forcing her gaze to mine.

“It’s just you and me now, Pixie.”

A slow smirk tugs at my lips.

“No more distractions.”

I lead her to the bedroom, my body buzzing, my control threadbare at best.

I pour two fingers of Neat into a tumbler, watching the amber liquid catch the light.

“Drink?”

Aella’s big green eyes flick to the cup, hesitant, thoughtful.

She doesn’t answer, so I move closer, offering it to her.

She nods, taking a small sip, and I hum my approval before downing the rest in one go.

I’m not a big drinker.

But fuck—I need it.

I need the burn, the brief distraction, something to steady my goddamn nerves before I go off like a rocket before I even touch her.

Because I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life.

And now?

Now it’s here. And I need to make it last.

I set the glass down, turn back to her, voice low, dark, a command wrapped in silk, “Take it off, Pixie.”

She blinks, lips parting slightly.

“What?”

I roll my shoulders, start unbuttoning my shirt lazily, dragging it out, giving her time.

But my next words leave no room for hesitation.

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