Page 239 of Midnights
Her gaze lifts to mine, and for a heartbeat, she just stares at me. Then, she smiles. “Thanks, Kane. For… everything.”
Her hand comes up to cup my cheek, and the warmth of her palm feels like a brand, searing me to the core. The softness of her touch is enough to send a jolt of heat straight through my veins.
She rises on her toes, and her lips brush mine. The hesitation burns off fast, replaced with hunger. I grip her waist, pulling her against me, erasing the space she thought she had.
The way her body melts against me is like a drug I didn’t know I was addicted to. My hand slides into her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss, and her fingers curl against my jaw.God, this woman.
I pin her closer. My body strains, demanding, but I cage it. It's not the time.
She pulls back, but I can still feel her breath against my skin. Her eyes are dark with heat, and she smiles. “You better go to bed before I change my mind and we end up in another… library situation.”
Her words are a challenge, and the playful wink she throws at me makes my restraint hang by a thread. It takes everything in me not to pull her back, and let the night spiral out of control.
I chuckle softly, brushing my thumb over her lower lip, as I lean in. “Is that a threat or a promise, Princess?”
“Guess you’ll have to fuck around and find out,” she teases, but her eyes betray her.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” I murmur.
A flicker of satisfaction dances across her lips, as her fingers brush against the doorknob. “Goodnight, Kane,” she whispers. The sound sends another jolt straight to my cock.
Fuck.
I stay rooted in place, watching her go into her room and close the door. The quiet click of the latch feels louder than it should, leaving me alone in the empty hallway with nothing but the memory of her kiss and a hard cock.
I exhale slowly, running a hand through my hair as a grin tugs at my lips. She’s trouble. All kinds of trouble. And yet, I can’t seem to stop walking straight into the fire. But, I can't think about that right now. I have shit to deal with,
Instead of heading to bed, I head to my office. The house is silent, and it's the kind of silence that makes your thoughts louder than they should be. I step inside, closing the door behind me, and let the familiar weight of the room settle over me.
I sit down and pull up the footage again. The glow of the screen casts shadows on the walls as I let the video play on repeat, my eyes scanning every frame with growing frustration.
The sequence is the same every time. Thunder, lightning, and then the lights outside explode all at once. Over and over, I watch it, searching for anything that might make sense of it. A shadow, movement, something to explain it. But there’s nothing.
The lights shattered at the exact moment we were in the library.My jaw tightens as I replay the memory in my head.That’s impossible.She wasthoroughlyoccupied.
Leaning back, I let out a long breath.
What the fuck is going on with the lights around here?
This wasn’t part of the plan. I wanted to give her a perfect evening and show her I’m not the liar she thinks I am.
But she's a five-foot whirlwind who somehow managed to dismantle every ounce of self-control I thought I had. Something inside me snapped. A switch flipped. And now, there’s no turning it off.
It took every shred of restraint to let her go. To not throw her on my bed and claim her. Even now, the memory of her is branded into me, replaying like a fucking addiction I can’t shake.I want all of her.
My eyes drift back to the footage on the screen as the tension coils tighter with each replay.How could she think this is her fault?What makes her believe she has anything to do with lights shattering across the estate? More importantly, why do they keep breaking?
A memory of my mother surfaces, and I can hear her voice soft, yet resolute.“There’s always more out there, Kane. If you’re trying to make sense of it, it’ll always be confusing.”
Maybe she was right.
The idea would be laughable if I didn’t see the fear in her eyes, or the doubt crawling under her skin. She’s holding back, and that’s a problem I intend to solve.
My mother’s favorite thing to say to me comes to the surface.Question nothing, or you’ll always be wrong.
But right now, it’s pissing me off. I’ve seen enough in this life to know that logic doesn’t always have a seat at the table, so it looks like I have some digging to do.
With a heavy sigh, I pull out my phone and type a quick message to Cam.
