It’s my turn to laugh. He tilts his head, confused. With all of my affection and frustration, I say, “Liar.”

He blinks owlishly. “I am not lying—”

“Well,” I say, biting my lip. “Maybe it’s not enough for me.”

Before he can respond, I pull his head down and press my mouth to his indignant scowl until it turns soft and warm. He shudders against me. Then, his palm wraps around the nape of my neck, turning the kiss fierce, his mouth open and hot. He pulls me in by the hip, closer, a pulse building between us, a shared demand. There’s a whoosh, movement, and I am against a tree, bark digging into my back, Sel’s mouth working against mine before he tears himself away entirely with a low groan. “We shouldn’t,” he pants. “Not like this…”

“I—” I gasp and shut my eyes, heat flooding my cheeks. Embarrassment and desire mingle so thickly I can’t tell one from the other. Sensation swims, churning me from the inside out. My mouth burns from his while my mind tilts around the axis memory of his hand on my hip. Logic and words feel far away. My heart is beating fast somewhere in my fingertips, in my belly, in the entirety of my chest.

When I open my eyes again, Sel is watching me with unguarded hunger and amused awe, like he knows everything my body is feeling, the warmth and torture and shock… and hopes it never ends. “Oh my God…,” I exclaim. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Then stop looking like that. Like you’re desperate to be back in my arms.” His brow rises, his voice lowers. “I like that look on you.”

I drop my head in my hands. “You’re the one who stopped us.”

“I know,” he whispers. “And I like that, too.”

My head snaps up, anger flaring. “You’re enjoying this!”

“I’m part incubus, of course I’m enjoying this,” he counters smoothly. “Start, stop, and everything in between, if it’s with you.”

I groan, unable to take anymore. “Sel, please… I…”

He sighs, relents. “It’s not that I don’t want…” He turns away with another groan, fists clenching at his sides. “I want”—he shakes his head, voice softer now—“but there are too many questions, Bree… between you and me, between you and…”

Between you and Nicholas.

He doesn’t have to finish the sentence. We both hear it well enough without the words.

I nod. Of course he’s right. Not like this. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No.” His eyes snap back to mine, scalding my skin.

I blink to find reason. Can’t. “No?”