THEA
“I won’t let you,” I whisper.
The words sound firm in my head, but they come out breathless. Weak. My hands tremble where they rest on the edge of the chair. My thighs are pressed tightly together, and I know he sees that too.
Ezra doesn’t laugh. He just c***s his head, pale blue eyes blazing–hungry– as his hands stay shoved in his pocket.
“Won’t let me what?” he murmurs.
“You know what.”
He leans closer. I stay seated, even though my instincts scream at me to move—run or fight or do something other than sit here and melt under his stare. But my body doesn’t listen. My knees fall open slightly as my breath hitches.
His voice lowers again, thick like molasses. “You keep saying no, Thea, but your body’s already given me the answer.”
“I don’t care,” I hiss, even as my hips shift,
