Ryan leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking slightly, and let his eyes drift for a moment as a memory slid in uninvited.
The gala.
The chaos.
The jealousy.
The way he had taken Eve away, his jealousy, a living thing under his skin. The way she had giggled, surprised and alive, until all that jealousy had turned into something fierce and desperate and grounding in the dark intimacy of the car afterward.
Heat slid low through his chest, sharp and vivid.
He let the memory sit there for a beat, then exhaled.
He hoped, very much hoped, to repeat something of that intensity soon. Perhaps after Steven’s party. Perhaps before. Perhaps simply because being near her now made self-control feel optional.
The door opened again without knocking this time.
Only two people in his life did
