His gaze found mine, and for the first time that night, the dangerous fire in his eyes softened. The hard lines of his face relaxed, revealing something raw and vulnerable beneath the rage.
“I want you,” he said, voice thick with need.
He crashed his lips against mine before I could respond. The kiss was hungry, demanding, filled with seventeen years of pent-up frustration. I struggled instantly, shoving at his broad chest.
“Mike—stop! What are you doing?!” I gasped between kisses.
He didn’t listen. He came at me again. I pushed him harder this time and slapped him across the face, the sharp sound cracking through the room.
I froze, my hand still hovering near my mouth in shock.
Mike stared at me, his cheek reddening from the slap. For a split second, raw pain flashed in his eyes, an
