Page 71 of Spearcrest Prince

“What do you mean?”

Her brows furrow slightly. It’s not a full-blown frown, but it’s more emotion than I’m used to from her. “Don’t be an idiot. I mean the kiss.”

Heat rushes through me. Why is she talking about the kiss as if it’s a memory, as if it’s already behind us? It’s far from a memory—it’s very much in the present.

My mouth is still wet from that kiss, my heart still racing, my cock still straining against my trousers.

“So that’s the story you’re going for?” I ask in my most casual tone.

“What do you mean?”

“That we only kissed because of our plan to make our parents think we like each other. That’s the story you want to go for, right?”

She turns slightly and narrows her eyes. “Webothdecided on this story. There’s no reason for you to keep whatever you’re thinking to yourself, so if you want to say something, say it.”

“Fine, I’ll say it.” My words burst out of me, partly fuelled by annoyance, partly by the flames of arousal still leaping through me. I feel as though my skin is about to ignite right off my body, and I want Anaïs to burn with me. “You’re trying to pretend that there was nothing else to that kiss, but that’s a lie. You wanted it—you wantedme.”

“I never said I didn’t.”

I open my mouth to accuse her of being a liar, but her reply stops me in my tracks.

“You’re admitting it?”

“Admitting that I wanted you to kiss me?” She raises her eyebrows and then laughs out loud, throwing her head back against the pale leather of the seat. “It’s not a crime, Sev.Of courseI wanted you to kiss me. How could I not?” She gestures at my face, the silver stars on her sleeves catching the light in blurry glitters. “You’ve seen your face in the mirror. You know it’s a very kissable face.”

The satisfaction that courses through me at her words feels better than anything I’ve ever experienced. Better than alcohol, better than sex. It sends shivers through my skin. I smile before I even realise I’m smiling.

“Youfancyme,” I say, leaning to her and narrowing my eyes. “How embarrassing for you.”

“Yes,” she says, rolling her eyes and dismissively pushing my face away from her. “How very embarrassing for me to be a horny eighteen-year-old.”

My heart skips a beat and throws itself against my ribs like it’s trying to break out. “Horny, you say?”

“What do you expect?” she says with a sigh. “I’ve been here for several months, and you ruined my only chance at getting laid. And ever since you were mean to Parker, none of the boys at Spearcrest want to speak to me. So thanks for that too.”

I glare at her. “If you’re horny, you don’t need a Spearcrest boy to sort that out for you. You have a perfectly good fiancé who’s more than capable of doing the job.”

She tilts her head. “When he’s not kicking me out of his bed out of pride.”

“I never kicked you out of my bed. You ran off.”

“You chased me away.”

“When I chase you, trésor”—I smirk—“it’s never away.”

She bites the insides of her cheeks, trying to hold back a smile, but her face finally cracks.

“Alright, that’s fair,” she admits. “I’ll give you that.”

“Well?” I prompt her. “So what do you think, then?”

“About what? About yourfiancés-with-benefitsidea?”

I shrug and lean forward. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“I’ll tell you what I think.” She rests her hands on the edge of her seat and leans forward. The limousine is full of her perfume, her warmth. “I think you’re still turned on from before, and you’re trying to make decisions with the wrong part of your body.”

She’s probably not wrong, and I can’t blame her for pointing it out.

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