My breath grew shallow. “I don’t know how.”

Every time I had tried to talk to Luke, he gaslighted me into thinking I was crazy, or he twisted the narrative to make me the bad guy. Eventually, I stopped trying. I was letting that—the past—interfere with the future. But knowing that and overcoming it were two separate things.

“Try.” He wedged a muscular thigh between my legs and brought his mouth down to hover above mine, almost touching.

I lifted my chin, and his lips crashed down against mine, his tongue pushing inside my mouth. The minute we kissed, every doubt I’d ever had, every question, every second-guess vanished.

Our mouths moved against each other, indomitable and wild, sending a wave of want surging through my body. He tore away from my lips, placing a trail of frenzied kisses down my neck and sending my desire into overdrive. I squirmed against his grip, trying to touch him, but all that did was make him press his thigh harder between my legs and hold my wrists tighter while I moved against him in response.

“If this is your idea of convincing me to talk,” I said breathlessly, “I don’t have a very good incentive to comply.”

But I was in sensory overload. He was pressed up against me while I was unable to touch him back. I wanted to feel his body beneath my hands, to map the muscles beneath his skin, and to run my fingers through his dark, silky hair.

I hit the breaking point. “Chase.”

“Stop?” He pulled back, looking at me pointedly like he was trying to prove something.

“No,” I said. “Just let me touch you.”

He released my wrists and cupped my chin, tilting my face up to his.

“Answer my question first,” he said calmly.

I bit my bottom lip, searching his face. He slid his hand from my jawline to the side of my neck. With anyone else, I would have been scared, but he wasn’t applying any pressure. It was a power move.

He would stop instantly if I said.

But I didn’t want him to.

With his free hand, he dragged the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip, gaze focused intently on the movement. Then he traced down my cheek, along the curve of my neck. I drew in a shaky breath, eyes fluttering shut as goose bumps popped up all over my body.

“I missed you.” He placed a kiss just below my ear.

I tilted my head, yielding to give him better access.

“It’s only been a couple days, and I’m like an addict in need of a fix.”

I’d missed him too, which was why I was melting like butter beneath his hands, unable to think clearly or form coherent sentences. He splayed his palm, cupping my breast and squeezing, and I melted a little more.

“Mm-hmm,” I murmured, my brain going offline.