Page 216 of What We Bury

“Yes.” My hands ball at my sides. “Because you don’t know what happens to men like me when we lose our edge. When our focus shifts to something other than the mission. You don’t know what happens when that boundary loosens, when I letmyself want something I can’t afford to lose, when I let myself want you.”

“Is that what you think happened to the others? They’ve lost their edge because of me?”

She stands and I refuse to look away.

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.Bullshit, Eli. That’s the biggest load of bullshit anyone has ever tried to sell me.” She stalks toward me, stopping toe to toe. “From where I’m standing, the only person losing any sort of edge is you. You can’t even think straight you’re shaking so bad.”

I keep my arms folded because if I unfold them I’ll reach out and pull her into my arms.

“Go back to Holden, Sage. Go to Milo. To Micah. Or Knox. You don’t need me too.”

It’s the ugliest truth I have left. Not noble distance. Not protection. Just the belief that whatever I am would be excess at best and poison at worst.

“You’re wrong.”

“Your five minutes are up.”

“I. Don’t. Care.”

I stare at her. She stares right back, a dare in the quirk of her mouth, defiant and soft at the same time. She’s so small compared to me—if I wanted to, I could crush her into the velvet of that chaise. Pin her down and make her listen. But I’m afraid if I touch her, I’ll never let her go.

“You’re relentless,” I grind out.

“You’re an idiot,” she fires back.

That, I can’t argue. I know what I am. A man who’s lost his limits. Who can only keep his mask on through sheer force of will. But she’s not done. She leans in, body tilted up, face close enough I can see the pulse jumping in her throat. I want to biteit. I want to bend and tear and claim every inch of her and I can’t,I fucking can’t.

“I can’t do this. I keep telling you, I can’t do this.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

My jaw locks. My hands flex once at my sides before I force them still.

“I don’t know, Sage. Pick the one you prefer.”

“What I prefer?” She reaches for the hem of her shirt. “I’d prefer that you fuck me.”

I blink. “What?”

“Get it out of your system.” She pulls the shirt over her head and drops it on the floor. Simple bra underneath, black cotton, nothing designed to seduce, and it’s the most devastating thing I’ve ever seen. “You want me so much it’s making you sick, right? Your words, Eli. So take what you want. Right here. Get it out of your head so you can think straight tomorrow. Maybe you’ll get that edge back.”

“Put your shirt back on.”

“No.” She reaches behind her and unclasps her bra. It falls. She stands there, bare from the waist up, arms at her sides, chin raised, daring me to look. I look. God help me, I look, and every barrier I’ve built turns to tissue paper.

“Sage—”

“What? You can watch me on a live feed or when I’m getting finger fucked by Micah but you can’t look at me now?” She steps closer. “You can hold me while I’m covered in blood but you can’t touch me when I’m offering?”

“That’s not fair.”

“None of this is fair.” Her hands go to the waistband of her shorts. Button. Zipper. She shoves them down her hips and steps out of them, and now she’s standing in front of me in nothing but black underwear, and my hands are shaking.

“Sage, stop. You have no idea what you’re fucking asking of me.”

“Make me stop, Eli.Fucking make me.”