“Don’t,” he snapped. The icy fire of his temper was evident in his gaze, his stance. He was coiled and ready.

“Don’t what?” she challenged.

“Don’t try to reduce what’s going on between us to that.”

“Sorry,” she said, heavy on the sarcasm. “I didn’t realize sucking your dick—”

She found herself backed against the wall with a hard, angry man in front of her. His hands were gentle on her, but the rest of him vibrated with anger. For some reason, she found his restraint fucking hot.

“No. We’re talking about this. No deflecting or distracting. We’re having it out.”

When he looked at her like this, it made her feel like she was the center of his universe. Like nothing else mattered but what was happening between them. But that wasn’t the truth.

“You want to talk?”

He nodded slowly, his teeth bared.

“You never want to talk.” Her voice shook as he leaned in and took a deep, carnal breath at her neck.

“I talk all the fucking time,” he insisted.

“Fine. Then talk,” she said, trying to duck under his arm but finding herself going nowhere as he cupped her jaw, holding her lightly by the throat.

“Do you know what it does to me to be that close to you and not be able to touch you like I want to?” he asked, his voice soft and jagged.

Wordlessly she shook her head.

“It’s fucking torture. It’s a new ring of hell to know what your skin feels like, to know what you taste like, but I still can’t touch you unless we’re alone.”

The hand at her throat coasted down over her shoulder and chest to her breast.

She drew in a breath. Her body melted against him, succumbing, surrendering.

But then his touch was gone, and with a growl, he slapped his palm against the wall above her head.

“I can’t keep doing this, Remi,” he said.

Panic bloomed in her chest. He was doing exactly what she’d feared he’d do. She should be the one who was supposed to put an end to things. She should save herself the agony of...this. She should be the one to withdraw. But he was beating her to the punch. Again.

“Then don’t,” she snapped. Anger and fear joined forces inside her, making the world come into sharp focus. The flare of his nostrils. The parting of his lips. The fire in his eyes that threatened to burn her to ashes.

“I can’t help myself,” he confessed. “I know how this is going to end and I can’t stop myself from wanting more anyway.”

“What kind of more?”

His breathing was heavy and hot on her face.

“I saw what your parents have tonight. Decades of it. A life together. A partnership.”

What was he saying? She was having trouble catching her breath. It came out in a shallow whistle.

Brick swore and pushed away from her. She sagged against the wall. Spotting her clutch on the table, he opened it and fished out her inhaler.