Page 195 of Fighting Chance

“No, it certainly does not!”

I sound like a toddler having a tantrum and yet I can’t stop myself. He always knows how to press just the right buttons.

Kieran drops his head so we’re at eye level. “Layla, you’ve come on my tongue screaming my name. It’s too late now to pretend otherwise.”

My eyes widen so far, I’m worried they’ll get stuck.

“You—you?—”

“Yes, me?” he teases.

Groaning, I push him off me. “You can’t say things like that!”

“And why not?”

Yeah, Layla why not?

Peering around the aisle, I snatch the closest thing I can find, which funnily enough fits exactly what I want to do. Shoving it at Kieran’s chest, I demand, “Put that on and shut up!”

Kieran’s eyes are sparkling with such heat already, and somehow they glow more as he looks down at what I threw at him. “Fuck me, I knew your books were kinky but this is next level.”

Sitting in Kieran’s hands is a mask for a Hannibal Lecter costume.

I throw my hands in the air. “I actually can’t with you. How the hell do you manage to make every little thing I say dirty?”

His eyes do a very slow perusal of my body, when his gaze finally lifts to mine, they’re hooded. “Have you looked in a mirror? It’s extremely easy.”

“Oh my god, you’re intolerable.”

“Just admit you want me and we can drop it.”

He’s pushing, far more than he has in the past three weeks. This is like the old Kieran. The one I have desperately wanted back and yet in equal measures have been terrified to see again, because he’s so hard to say no to.

I turn away from him before his superpower can read the thoughts running havoc through my mind, forcing myself to focus on the costumes. One catches my eye, sparking a hint of anticipation in my blood.

Ignoring whatever Kieran is babbling on about now, I stride down the mask aisle and stop a third of the way down. Taking two off the wall, I turn to face Kieran, grinning madly as I lift them.

“How badly do you want to prove that you want me?”

Kieran’s strides eat up the aisle, his gaze devouring me. “I’d die for you if it meant you’d take me seriously.”

Swallowing thickly, I try to ignore the way his honest words make my belly heat. “Wear this then.”

Dropping the Hannibal Lecter mask, he catches the new one I throw him, his lip twitching. “Oh, we’re so fucking on.”

Surprise flashes through me. “Really? You’re going to wear it with me?”

“Sunshine, you could torture me and so long as your hands are on my body I’d be a good boy and scream.”

“What a delightful picture.”

“Want me to scream for you?”

“Maybe.”

He chuckles darkly, then cocks his head at the mask. “You’ve read a book about this, haven’t you?”

Blinking I try to cover my shock. “N-no.”