I set my jaw, gave him my best “don’t fuck with me” glare, even as heat crawled like a traitorous serpent beneath my skin.
My body, the betrayer. Always.
"You want to pretend this is a game, Esme?" His voice was a low, rough caress, rasping over my skin.
It stretched between us, thick and consuming, filling up the tiny space where our bodies hovered, almost touching.
His hold softened, and one finger traced a slow, deliberate path from my shoulder to my wrist, leaving a burning line that made my nerves tingle. Goosebumps erupted across my skin wherever he touched.
His mouth hovered just above mine, so close I could taste the scotch on his breath, sharp, smoky, and dizzying.
"Fine. But you don’t get to walk away," he murmured, the words a promise and a threat, a dare and a surrender.
My chest squeezed tight, lungs refusing to work as the pounding in my throat matched the relentless ache gathering between my thighs.
If I moved even a fraction, our mouths would crash together. I could see it play out, the heat and the wildness: his tongue forcing its way into my mouth, my nails clawing his shoulder, clothes tearing, neither of us stopping, both of us frantic, pressed to the wall until nothing existed but this until all my patched-up pride went up in flames, scattered and ruined at our feet.
No. I bit the inside of my cheek until the sharp taste of blood cut through the haze.
Never again. I couldn’t let it happen again.
My eyes darted over the room, tallying every potential weapon within reach. Two weighty lamps. The iron poker by the hearth. If I timed it, caught him off guard, maybe I’d have a chance, a sliver of leverage.
But I wasn’t naive.
Aidon was strength and danger, all honed muscle and ruthless instinct.
He’d disarm me in a heartbeat if I faltered, and I didn’t forget the loyal men posted just beyond the door.
If I were going to beat Aidon, it wouldn’t be by brute force. I’d have to outmaneuver him some other way.
Outsmart him. Outlast him. I just had to accept it would take longer than I wanted.
He moved in, fast and deliberate, and I jerked my head aside before our mouths could meet, wrenching myself free.
“What do you want from me, Aidon?” I asked, my resolve refusing to bend.
His eyes snapped with a wild, hungry light.
“There it is.” He rocked back on his heels, like I’d just delivered him a fistful of gold, the keys to a kingdom or a candy shop. “Knew you’d come around.”
He prowled over to the teetering stack of paperwork crowding his desk, flipping through the pages with quick, impatient flicks, each movement taut with restless energy.
“Start with these. There’s something buried in here; I know it. Dig hard enough, and we’ll find the dirt on Rhea. We make her squirm, back her into a corner. While she’s too busy cleaning up, we slip beneath her guard and rip the real secrets out from under her.”
“That’s the plan?” My eyebrow arched, skepticism I couldn’t hide. “You just want me to…read these reports?”
He shot me a look, already tapping his watch. “For now. I have a meeting in five. But this is what I need from you. Can you handle it?”
I shrugged, the answer already carved into my bones as if any of it could be simple.
No, nothing about this would be simple. That much was written in stone.
“So what do I get out of it?” I fired back, folding my arms tight across my chest, refusing to give an inch.
He glared at me, irritation etched into those sharp eyes, and spat a single word, “Protection.”
I didn’t even hesitate. “From whom?”