I feel light-headed and dizzy like I’m the one who is drunk. When I glance between his legs, his erection hardens even more against his denim jeans. I want it. I. Want. It.

“Two, I prefer the term fucking. Sleeping together sounds like boring, fluff-the-pillow sex.”

Even though his offer is tempting, I can’t do it. I’m the one who would end up with the broken heart and be left with the broken pieces.

Coming out of my post-orgasm haze, I pull my panties over my hips, yank down my gown, and sit on the couch next to him.

Jeez, what was I thinking letting him touch me like this? What is wrong with me? This is bad. So bad.

“No, Gunner.” I run my toes through the blue wool carpet, keeping my head down.

“Why not?” His voice is husky and smooth. When he tilts my chin toward him, I smell myself on his fingers.

Because I can’t risk getting hurt by you. I need more than a dirty screw, I want to say, but I’m not brave enough to utter those words. “I don’t want to.” I yank strands of hair from my bun and twirl it around my finger. “You need to leave.”

I don’t want him to leave, but if he doesn’t I might do something I’ll hate myself for in the morning.

I wrap my arms around myself. I don’t know how I let it get this far between us. For heaven’s sake, I let him finger me—and for a split second, I almost lost all my common sense.

Nope, never again.

He pushes himself off the couch and strides toward the door; I follow him to make sure it closes this time.

He stops in front of the door; he turns around to face me, cupping my face, and stroking his thumb against my cheek. His eyes swim with passion and lust.

If I wasn’t certain before that I wanted to kiss him, I’m certain now. I want his kisses and I want him to mark me like I’m his. I want the sex he promises, and I want to feel his tortured soul. He leans closer, brushing his lips against mine, and I whimper against his mouth.

Gunner is my weakness, and he knows it. It’s why he won’t leave me alone. He knows I wanted him nine years ago. We both know I’m going to cave sooner or later.

Finally, he lets go of my cheeks. My shoulders slump, and my heart begs for him.

As the door clicks when he shuts it, I sag against the wall.

If the sheep keeps hanging around with the wolf, it’s bound to get devoured.

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Gia