Page 165 of Midnights
“I meant to ask if you’d want to come,” I admit. “But, I kept forgetting.” My gaze drops to where her hand fits perfectly in mine. And then, before I can stop myself, I add, “I'm glad you're here, too.”
Her eyes snap to mine, like she wasn’t expecting that.
For a second, one dangerous second, everything else fades. The music slows, the crowd blurs into nothing, and it’s just her.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
I lean in, letting my mouth brush across her ear, dropping my voice into something that’s not quite a whisper.
“You really do look devastating tonight, Princess.”
She tenses, then that tongue flicks across her lips—and fuck, if she does that again, I'll forget where we are.
There goes every single good intention I had left.
She coughs, trying to cut the tension, but her fingers twitch against my shoulder, betraying her. The small smile that follows drags me deeper into her.
Her attention slides to the crowd, and mine tracks it without hesitation. She's watching another couple sway together, but I know better. She's not looking at the dance, she's looking at the thing no one's ever given her.
She'll never admit it, but I catch the shift. That unguarded flicker before she buries it all under that sharpness.
The woman presses into him, laughing softly. He watches her like she hung the stars. They tilt closer, lost to everyone else. Pathetic, really. Except Raven's gaze lingers—and that, I don't miss.
She notices things no one else catches. The details most people are too wrapped up in themselves to see. And she doesn't even realize how rare that is. How rare she is.
I trace slow, lazy circles over her hip, testing the line she keeps drawing and redrawing between us.
Her body tenses when our eyes meet and there’s something raw there, something pleading.
Then, in the next breath, it’s gone.
That fire catches in her eyes, twisting her defenses into something hungrier. All tease and all bite. And I want every fucking piece of it.
“Careful there,sir.Don’t want to start something you can’t finish.”
Wrong fucking move.
The edge of my mouth curves, because she has no idea how close I am to forgetting every last rule of control.
My grip tightens at her waist, pulling her in until there’s no space left between us, until she has no choice but to feel exactly what she’s doing to me.
I dip my head until I'm close enough that my lips hover at the curve of her ear. “I never start something I don’t plan on finishing.”
She stills and inhales slowly. I see something reckless in her gaze, then she shivers.
She opens her mouth, like she’s ready to throw out some smartass remark but hesitates. I wait, watching every flicker of uncertainty, every battle waging behind those dark, defiant eyes. But she doesn’t speak.
When my fingers brush her bare skin, I hear a small, unsteady gasp escape her lips.
I let the silence stretch, dragging this out just long enough for her tofeelit. To feel every inch of space between us that no longer exists. Every breath she’s struggling to take, I let her drown in it.
What the fuck am I doing?
Then the song ends, and my earpiece crackles.
I pick up just enough to know I’m needed. Cam’s already looking my way, and the expression on his face tells me everything. There’s a fight. And my sister’s involved.
Perfect.
