Page 18 of Adoring Fletcher
My stomach flip-flopped. My heartbeat picked up speed. Why was he looking at me like that? Like he washungry?
“Adam?” I asked softly. “Is everything okay?”
He didn’t answer.
He pushed off the doorframe and stalked over, coming up behind me. His hands settled on my hips—just like I’d fantasized—and I froze.
My heart thundered in my chest as Adam leaned in, inhaling softly at the back of my neck. His warm breath ghosted over my skin, making me shiver. I arched back instinctively, desperate for more.
What was I doing? This was insane.
I wanted him. I wanted him so badly.
I whined, the sound slipping out before I could stop it.
But then Adam growled, soft and low, and stepped away, leaving me cold once more. Shaking his head, he turned and retreated into the heart of the house, and I heard his footsteps on the staircase a moment later.
I stood there, confused and still wanting.
What wasthatall about?
11
ADAM
I wasn’tsure what came over me.
One minute, I was half-heartedly watching some comedy sitcom, letting the background noise fill the room. The next, I found myself standing in the kitchen doorway, watching Fletcher.
He was humming softly under his breath, meticulously washing the dishes, completely absorbed in the task.
And suddenly, I was overwhelmed with the need to touch him. It was as if some invisible thread pulled me forward, guiding me right to him, a beacon in the night.
I didn’t even hear his questions.
Before I realized what I was doing, I was walking up behind Fletcher, close enough to feel his warmth, close enough to breathe him in.
I dropped my nose to the short hairs at the nape of his neck and breathed in deeply.
He went very still beneath me.
His breath hitched, short and sharp, before I felt him arch back, just slightly, into my space.
Fuck.
I wanted to make a move. Every part of me screamed to reach out, to touch, to taste, to claim him. My wolf rioted beneath my skin, yipping his pleas to the sky. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep them at bay.
I couldn’t. I knew better.
My parents had a plan for me. They expected me to marry—not for love, but for money. They expected me to wed a wealthy Omega female, to secure alliances, and to carry on the Sinclair family name.
That was my future.
I didn’t even think my father believed in love.
I was the eldest Sinclair son, the heir to the company and my father’s estate. I couldn’t do this. No matter how much I wanted it. No matter what my heart said.
Growling softly, I forced myself to step back. Then, without a word, I turned and left the kitchen, leaving Fletcher standing there alone, no doubt wondering what the hell just happened.
