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“Oh,” I sneered. “So that’s what we’re playing? Cat and mouse?”

“I’m not fucking playing anything with you,” he spat out, his expression stern and unreadable.

“You know what, Noah? I’m done. I’m fucking done.” I could hardly breathe right as I stomped toward the stairs.

Strong fingers enclosed my arm, searing my flesh as he pulled me back. A rush of air swooshed from my lungs as he slammed my back against the seven-foot wine rack—bottles clinking and clattering.

He reached above my shoulder, clasping one hand around the wooden frame, cocooning me in. “This. Is not. Afuckinggame for me.”

“It sure looks like it from where I’m standing.”

“Then change direction.”

“Why? Why do I have to change anything for amistake?”

He bit his bottom lip, frustration rolling off him in waves that crashed against the strain of seduction I felt down my spine. The longer I stood there, so close to him, the more I wanted to submit and allow him to do whatever the hell he wanted to with me, just as long as he kissed me. My lips ached, my taste buds salivating to taste him again.

As if he could hear my thoughts, his gaze dropped to my lips. I held my breath as his tongue flicked across his lips, leaving a tempting glisten that had me grabbing the wooden frame behind me, clasping my fists around it to stop myself from crashing my mouth against his. It was war between us, and we were both waiting to see who would strike first. I’ve never seen a man so determined to fight an attraction, to stop our mutual desire from colliding and exploding. It was both confusing and hot as fuck at the same time—to witness his internal battle, waiting for the rope to snap and suffocate us both.

He bit his bottom lip, his eyes darkening as if he craved a taste of something tempting and toxic.

“Be careful, Noah. That look in your eyes suggests you’re on the edge of making the same mistake you warned me about.”

Warning flashed across his face. “Don’t fuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“Give me a clue.”

He leaned closer, and I could smell the scent of beer on his breath. “You’re playing a dangerous game. One you can’t win.”

“Why can’t I? Wait, let me guess,” I made a show rolling my eyes, “I’m too young.”

“Look who’s playing games now.” He placed his beer on one of the shelves behind me.

I shrugged. “If you can’t beat them.”

“You think I’m an asshole for what I said, but I’m only protecting you.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

“You sure as fuck need something.”

“Something you clearly have no intention of giving me.”

“Stop,” he warned.

“Why?” I leaned my head to the side. “Are you afraid you might lose the battle raging inside that head of yours?”

“Believe me, you should be the one that’s afraid.”

“Because I’m young? Well, why don’t you just go fuck yourself then? I might be young in your eyes, but that doesn’t mean I’m any less capable of handling whatever this is between us.”

“Maybe I’m the one not capable of handling it. Ever think about that?” His eyes softened just a little, his expression turning from hard to pained. “I told you, you don’t know me. You don’t know the level of fucked-up I am, and you need to stay the hell away from me.”

The words cut right through my chest. I could practically feel the bone break. I sucked in a breath. “Funny, since you’re the one currently keeping me from leaving.”


Tags: Bella J. Romance