Scarred Regrets (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 5)

Never had I reacted so strongly. Never had I wanted a man from just a few minutes of conversation, but there was something about him that wouldn’t be denied. That I couldn’t walk away from, even in my grief for the boy who hadn’t deserved to die.

Maybe that pushed me to take what I wanted, instead of waiting for him to give it to me.

I dropped a hand to the top of his thigh, the fine fabric of his slacks feeling smooth against my open palm. He stiffened, glancing down at the touch with a swallow before his eyes came back to mine.

They blazed, something like fire dancing in the dark depths. “You really shouldn’t touch me, Little Butterfly,” he said, his voice practically a growl. Something dangerous hovered within it, dancing just below the surface of his humanity.

Like a beast rattling its cage, waiting for the door to open and for the opportunity to pounce.

“Then maybe you should touch me instead,” I said, pushing closer to him and arching my back slightly. He looked down my blouse, looking at the small line of cleavage in a way that I never expected.

Being slender and eating a neurotically healthy diet had its advantages. Having big boobs was not one of them, but that didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest as his hands clenched around the seat of my stool. The wood creaked under the pressure of that grip, taking everything he had to restrain whatever lurked inside him and wanted out.

So I moved, leaning forward and touching my lips to the corner of his mouth gently.

He froze solid, his body chilling like ice beneath my hand on his thigh. My eyes fluttered open, finding him still staring down at me and not moving to return the kiss.

I started to pull back, having clearly misread his intent for the situation.

Then all Hell broke loose.