My heart gallops in my chest as he gets to his feet and holds out his hand. I’m not one hundred percent sure exactly what I just agreed to, but I find myself taking it and rising. Blame the champagne, blame the desperation, blame a lifetime of bad choices, I don’t know.
But whatever the cause, I take his hand.
That’s what seals my fate.
He coaxes me against him. It’s not harsh or violent, but it’s utterly inexorable. He doesn’t have to try hard to let me know that there is only one way forward now: his way.
His chest is broad and strong against mine. I feel impossibly tiny in his arms. Fragile. At his mercy.
Maybe that’s why I’m soaking wet.
His silver eyes move luxuriously over my face. He’s taking his time. I have no idea what he’s thinking and it’s driving me crazy. When he leans
