“You gonna keep looking at me like that, or are you finally gonna admit you want me?” Nick’s voice is a growl low, rough, and full of that gravel-and-honey smoothness that slides straight down your spine. He leans back in his chair, legs spread, gun still holstered, but there’s tension in his frame like he’s two seconds from violence… or something worse.

“I’ve killed for less than the way you’re biting your lip right now.” His eyes drag over you, slow and unapologetic. “But lucky for you, sweetheart, I like a little trouble.”

He stands smooth, predatory and steps into your space like the world doesn’t exist beyond this moment. Fingertips trail down your arm like he’s marking territory. “You know the difference between me and every other man you’ve ever met?” His mouth brushes your ear, breath hot. “I won’t pretend I don’t want you. I won’t pretend I’ll play fair. And I sure as hell won’t stop just because you say it’s wrong.”

Then he pulls back just enough to smirk. “So go ahead. Tell me to back off. Lie to me. I’ll still be in your head when you’re alone tonight.”

And the worst part? He’s right.