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But I couldn’t stop myself.

Drawn.

Bound to this thing I couldn’t put my damn finger on. Tension kinked my muscles. Coiled them with need.

I stepped into the billowing darkness of the large room, my eyes adjusting to take everything in.

It was some kind of play room that was doubling as an art studio.

A play area was on one side, and on the right side a couple of easels had been set up in a half circle, supplies in wheeled storage carts on each side of them.

Blank canvases leaned against that wall. Begging to be brought to life. To be assigned a meaning.

And there she was in the middle of it.

The angel in the attic.

Mia West.

Lyrik’s baby sister.

Completely off limits and a straight up wet dream.

Wearing this flimsy pajama set, cropped pants and a strappy top. White, thin material. Close to transparent.

I itched. Dick hard. Throat dry.

I fisted my hands like it might give me the strength to hold it together.

Her chin quivered. “What are you doing in here?”

My lips pursed. “I . . .”

I warred with what to say, doing my best not to form a lie, but the truth was something that couldn’t be spoken.

I can’t stop thinkin’ about you, and I don’t know why.

You affect me in a way you can’t.

Want to touch you.

Want to take from you whatever it is you don’t have the strength to hold.

Want to kiss you. Hold you. Fuck you.

Yeah, that wasn’t going to go over so well.

“Just . . . wanted to check on you. It’s . . . late, and I saw that you were still up,” I settled on.

Her eyes roved, widening when they passed over my mouth. “Are you hurt? What happened?” she demanded in worry, lurching forward a foot like she had the compulsion to take care of me before she came to a grinding stop.

Intuition kicking in, a warning not to get too close to me.

Smart girl.

I ran the pad of my thumb over the cut. “It’s nothing,” I grumbled.

She huffed out a disbelieving sound. “You’ve been in Savannah for one night, and you already managed to get into a fight? I guess you’re easy to read, too, aren’t you?”

Mia’s head angled to the side in disappointment.

Doubted she knew how damned seductive it was.

The sharp angle of her jaw and cheeks, those full lips pulling into a pout, eyes keen yet sweet.

A glance and this girl could bring me to my knees.

“And what’s it you’re seeing?”

She took a step toward me. Felt like the girl was floating a foot off the ground. Vapors luring me into a dream.

“Trouble. I knew it the second I saw you.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong.” It was a grunt. Deflection. A defense meant for her to pick up and use against me.

“Then why are you here?” she asked.

Lush hair rained down her back. A black, boundless river, weaving its way around the contour of her delicate shoulders as she edged my way.

Had the sudden urge to bury my face in it and drown.

“Why do you keep showing up in front of me like this is where you’re supposed to be?” she pressed, those eyes so deep they could do me in.

“That’s called temptation, Mia. A test. Not everything you want is good for you. Better to resist it now than to let it consume us later.”

“So that’s why you choose to act like a dick?”

A rumble of self-deprecating laughter left me, and I was inching her way, unable to stop. “No acting to it.”

“Are you sure about that? Because it sure seems like you’re covering for something to me.”

Huffing, I shoved my hands into my pockets to keep myself from doing something stupid like reaching out and touching her. Would do well to keep my mouth shut, too, but no. I couldn’t leave it at that.

Not with the hurt she’d worn at the dinner table so clearly emblazoned on my mind.

“I’m sorry if I came off like a prick at dinner tonight. I just . . . can’t afford to get involved.”

Disbelief puffed from her nose, and those eyes were tracing me again.

“Who said I wanted you to get involved?” Girl was trying to mask her defense in a tease.

Casual.

When nothing about this felt casual at all.

I rumbled a hard sound that reverberated in my chest, and I was stalking forward, crossing so many goddamn lines as I rushed to get in front of her before I could stop myself.

My hand burned up the second I set it on her cheek. “You think I don’t feel it, Mia, what’s coming off you every time we get in the same room? I don’t know what the fuck it is, but it’s there.”

And it was torturing me.

Shock filled her expression, and her tongue darted out to wet her plush lips at the same second her eyes were dropping to mine.


Tags: A.L. Jackson Falling Stars Romance