Craving (Steel Brothers Saga 1)

I turned my attention back to my teacup. “If you say so.”

He stood and took the water glass to the sink. He stayed for a moment, his back to me, his ass looking delectable in his sleeping pants. His skin was tan, and the strong muscles of his back seemed tense. How I longed to massage all the tension out of him. Would I ever get that chance?

I’d have to break down a lot of walls to be able to do anything for his tension. Was I ready for that? Having just come away from a broken engagement?

I let out a soft chuckle. Whether I was ready mattered little. Talon was not ready and probably never would be.

He turned around and gazed at me. “What’s so funny?”

Shit. Had he heard my laugh? “Nothing.”

He walked toward me, aggression in his demeanor. “Are you fucking laughing at me?”

“No, I—”

He pulled me up and out of my chair so I was facing him, our chests nearly touching.

“You think it’s funny that I can’t sleep? That I sit here with a glass of water? Is that why you get up every night, to laugh at me?”

I trembled before him—from fear or arousal, I wasn’t sure. He gripped my upper arms, his knuckles whitening with the pressure he was exerting.

I should stop him. I should stop him now before this goes one minute further.

But I didn’t want to stop him. Yes, he was gripping me hard, harder than he should. But his touch on my skin, his hands on my flesh… It all felt right, somehow.

“Answer me, goddamnit.”

I shook my head. “Of course I wasn’t laughing at you. I wouldn’t do such a thing.”

He sneered at me. “Yes, because you’re such a nice person, right?”

“Yes.” My lips trembled.

“Are you, Jade? Are you really a nice person?”

“Of course I am.”

He still gripped me firmly. “Then you should probably stay the hell away from me.” He released me quickly.

I stumbled backward, catching myself by grabbing the back of the chair.

This man was dangerous. Brooding and dangerous. And sexy as hell. His dark-walnut hair framed his face in soft tousled waves. His onyx eyes gleamed, boring holes in my center as he stared at me. His muscles were tense, his whole chest clenched. He needed something. Anything, to release the tension.

“I…I guess I’ll get back to bed.” I turned to leave.

But he grabbed me again, this time pulling me right up to his chest, only the thin cotton of my tank separating us.

“I’m going to tell you this once, and I expect you to listen,” he said, his eyes burning.

Was I supposed to nod? I simply arched my eyebrows.

“Do not come to the kitchen in the middle of the night anymore.”

“Why not? If I can’t sleep, the tea helps me relax—”

His lips slammed down on mine.

Oh, God…