Twist the Knife - Page 153

“What does that mean?” she insists.

I blow out an annoyed breath. “You need a title? My woman. My girlfriend.”

“You want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because you told me, rather explicitly, that you don’t have relationships.”

“Well, now I want to.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” I said it. What more does she want from me?

“Why do you want me to be your girlfriend? Because someone else asked me out?”

“No. I like you. Every little fucking thing about you. Your sense of humor, and all the quirky challenges that come out of your mouth. I like the way you care so much about what you do. How you try to protect and honor dead people you didn’t even know in life.”

Her eyebrows squinch together.

“You need me to continue?” When she doesn’t answer, I keep spilling all the thoughts that have been taking up space in my head for months. “I respect the way you don’t let people talk you into things. Even me. You’re hotter than fuck. You wear the cutest outfits.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a second. “But I really like you naked best. Your body drives me insane.”

I usually know where things are going every time I’m with a woman—nowhere. I should’ve let it stay that way. I don’t think I can go back to nowhere. Not when I want to be somewhere with this woman.

“Do you really mean all of that?” she asks.

“Every word.”

She cups my cheek. “I’ll tell him I can’t make it.”

“Good.”

She wiggles her body like she’s trying to get free from my iron grip. “Uh, let me go so I can get my phone.”

“Now?” I slip my hand under her shirt and cup her breast. No bra in my way. Fuck, yes. I rub my thumb around the hard bud of her nipple. “He can wait.”

“You chased me up the stairs…barged in here.” She gasps as I close two fingers over her nipple and squeeze. “And…and…”

“And what?” I tug her shirt up and free one arm. Can’t be bothered getting it all the way off. I dip my head and suck her nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tip.

“Ah…nothing. I don’t know.” She rakes her fingers through my hair. “I’ll do it later.”

“Yes, you will.” I boost her into my arms again, sliding my palms under her ass, and holding her against my body.

She quickly locks her arms around my neck and glances at the floor. “Don’t let go of me.”

I’ve never been good at holding onto anyone. Never wanted to before.

But I never want to let her go.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Margot

I can’t think. I can barely breathe. Jigsaw wants to be with me. Wants me as his girlfriend. Not his student that he’s throwing a few pity sex lessons.

The man who said he doesn’t do relationships now wants to be in a relationship. With me.