Say You're Mine (Shillings Agency 5)

Her stomach hollowed out, and she swallowed hard. He was being all possessive and domineering and…yes, jealous. She didn’t normally like jealousy on a man, but on Steven, it looked good. “I wasn’t even looking at him. I was looking at you.”

“Good.” He rolled his knee against her clitoris, slowly and tortuously. “I don’t like the idea of you wanting some other guy. I’ve never been so angry before. I’ve never been so—so—”

Her mouth quirked up. She couldn’t help it. “Jealous?”

His brows slammed down. “Hell no. I’m not—” Comprehension lit his expression, and he tightened his grip on her waist. “Shit. Yes, damn it. I’m fucking jealous. I’ve never wanted to claim a woman as mine, and all mine, as much as I did tonight.”

His “claim” on her was primitive and outdated, but even so, she liked it. The possession in his hold and voice made her nipples tighten, and she pressed against his knee. A gasp escaped her at the friction. “Steven.”

“I’m here, cupcake. And I’m not going anywhere.” He buried his hands in her hair and tugged until her face pointed up toward his. “Got it?”

The meaning behind those words was not lost on her. He echoed his promise from earlier, and she believed him. “Got it,” she breathed.

He let out a sexy growl and kissed her. The second their lips touched, it was like fireworks went off in the street, bursting all around them. His hands ran over her curves, touching everywhere…but not enough. She clung to his shoulders, tongue entwining with his, and moved against his knee, each stroke taking her higher and higher.

Everything else—the worries, the doubts, the confusion, and the fear—faded away in his arms. Her entire body tightened. God, she was close. So close that her fingers tingled and her stomach tightened. One more thrust and—

Without warning, he broke the kiss off and took his knee back. “That’s all you get, after what happened inside,” he said, his voice strained. “We’ll finish this when we get home—after we talk.”

“Steven,” she managed to get out. She drew in a ragged breath. “Please.”

She’d pulled that out into play out of desperation. It worked every other time. But apparently…not this one. He didn’t kiss her again. Just stared.

“No.” He rested his forehead on hers, gripping her hips and fisting her shirt there. “Not until we figure out what the hell we’re doing, but it’s not going to happen here, when my sister and Holt are waiting for us to come back inside.”

He hauled her close again, slamming his mouth down on hers.

When he pulled back, they both gasped for air, clinging to one another.

It was a lot harder to let go of him than it should have been. She took a shaky breath. “This is crazy. For years, you didn’t even look at me like that. But now I can’t stop kissing you, and—”

“That’s not true,” he argued. “I looked

. The difference between then and now is that I see exactly who and what we are—and what we could be.”

She fisted his shirt. “Steven, I’m not—”

“Don’t. Don’t say anything yet.” He pressed a finger to her mouth, his hazel eyes warm and pulling her under his spell. “Just think about it. About us. Okay?”

Oh, she’d think about it, all right.

In fact, she wouldn’t be able to think about anything else.

Chapter Fourteen

Steven glanced at Lauren with his peripheral vision. The moonlight played with the highlights in her hair, and softened her beautiful features. She’d been quiet all night, and he had no clue if that was a good thing. He’d been honest, and open, and if he fucked himself over by doing so?

It was too late to take it all back now.

The truth about his feelings was out.

He had to wait to see if she felt the same way about him. And if, by some miracle, she did, then he had to try like hell not to screw it up, like he had with Rachel. But with Lauren, he had to have faith he would keep his shit together.

That this time would be different.

Or he was even more of a screwup than he originally thought.

They walked up to her house, hand in hand, neither one of them speaking as they climbed up her stairs and into her townhome. She closed and locked the door behind them, flicked the switch on, and those bright blue eyes locked on him. “You didn’t drink tonight.”