Page 112 of Desperate Actions

“More than alright, Pixie. You did fucking great.”

I groan, mortified, because shit—I really need to work on my internal monologue.

I did not mean to say that out loud.

Sammy chuckles, the sound low and satisfied, and his fingers trace lazy circles over my bare hip, sending a shiver rolling through me.

“Can I ask you something?”

His eyes darken, his attention sharpening entirely on me.

“You can ask me anything,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

His touch is so intimate, so reverent it makes my chest ache.

I hesitate.

Not because I don’t trust him—I do.

But because I know this answer is going to change everything.

I take a breath, my fingers trailing over the ink on his chest, marveling at how warm and solid he feels beneath my touch.

His body is a masterpiece—all hard lines and corded muscle with thick masterful tattoos.

Like a living, breathing work of art.

But it’s not his body I’m thinking about.

It’s him.

“Why?” I finally whisper.

His brows furrow, confusion flickering over his too-handsome face.

“Why what?”

“Why did you bringReadEaseto the board at Volkov Industries?”

He doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t flinch or scramble for an answer.

Because he already knows exactly what to say.

“Because it’s an amazing app,” he says simply. “And because I believe in you.”

Something inside me clenches so tightly I can barely breathe.

“But we weren’t a thing back then,” I murmur, trying to wrap my head around it.

His lips curve, but his expression is serious, his gaze never wavering.

“Aella, I didn’t support your project because I wanted to fuck you. I mean, yeah, I’ve been dying to get my hands on you for more years than was legal for me to want you, but that’s not why.”

I gasp, smacking his chest, but my heart stutters in my chest at the raw honesty in his voice.

He grins, gripping my wrist, bringing it to his lips.

“It’s a great app,” he says, soft and sure. “Why did you create it?”

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