If he wanted to, I’d let him set up a webcam. If it meant he’d keep touching me, I’d do just about anything.
He growls again, a low rumble vibrating from him and through me. I force my eyes open—force myself to look at him. At his stubbled jaw. At the tattoos climbing up his neck. At the golden flecks in his amber eyes.
And for just a second, I’m forced to look at myself. At my own motivations for being here. For suggesting any of this.
This is more than a flimsy facade for the sake of “his mission.” This is a facade for what I really feel. For the feelings I can’t navigate and won’t confess.
Despite it all, I want this man. Desperately.
This is just the only way I can have him.
For now, it has to be enough.
Ivan’s eyes trail over my face and my body. Then, all at once, he pushes me
