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Throttled: Dirty Air (Book 1)(68)

Author:Lauren Asher

He chuckles. His lips trail down my neck instead, leaving light kisses behind.

“I’ve missed you.” The three words he says feel like everything I want to hear. They make my heart ache because he can’t give me what I want, no matter how much I crave it.

“You can’t miss what you’ve never had.” If I wasn’t currently occupied, I’d clap myself on the back for that one.

“What if I told you I’ve changed, that the break did us good?” He gets the words out before his lips suck on my neck, what I deem to be my weak spot. Our chemistry has not wavered. It feels as charged as ever; as his lips drag across my skin, my body unconsciously arches into him.

The betrayal.

“Not sure if I believe you. Actions speak louder than words.”

Trashy tabloids have kept quiet since the blonde woman in Baku. He may speak the truth, but I don’t want to chance it, putting myself out there to get hurt.

“Let me show you. Just give me a real chance.”

His lips find mine again. But this time his kiss domineers the situation, just like him, crashing against me and tearing down my walls. His tongue strokes the seam of my lips, seeking entrance.

I keep them sealed off, preventing him from taking the kiss further. He nips at my bottom lip in a silent demand for me to open up to him. His teeth graze and pull, causing me to groan at the feeling.

“Uh. Oh man, I’ll come back later.”

My head snaps up at the stranger’s voice. I bury my face into Noah’s button-down shirt, which is a bad idea because the addicting smell of him makes me lightheaded.

I don’t move until the stranger’s footsteps disappear.

“Hear me out. Let me expla—” his voice croaks.

Nope. Need to get out of this situation ASAP.

“Um. Uh…I have to go.” I take off in the direction of my table, leaving a grumbling Noah behind me, not bothering to steal a second glance at him. My brain tells me to run away from Noah while my body tells me to run toward him.

Sophie’s eyes narrow at me when I settle back in my seat, making me feel even worse about what happened.

I ignore her side glances throughout the night because we can have story time later.

My stomach twists in knots as Sophie stares at me from across the room, her sneaker tapping against the carpet. She reads my body language while she sits on the sectional couch in Santi’s suite. My eyes gaze around at the plain hotel room in a struggle to find anything interesting to look at. Basically, anything but her face would do.

“What did we say about him?” She won’t let me off easy, her voice laced with disappointment.

“Well, I didn’t exactly fall for his rough yet sweet personality, kissable lips, fuckable body, or rock-hard abs. Honestly, he cornered me in the hallway. I didn’t even know he was there. It’s not like I chose the restaurant.” I may or may not have practiced that line in the bathroom earlier.

“And what, he tripped and his lips fell on yours?” She waves her hands around. Yup. Definitely ticked off. My silence doesn’t bode well with her because she paces the room, agitated and grumbling about how all her plans fail.

“Don’t you dare try to play it off in your pretty head. That’s a ridiculous idea. You came back to the table a mess and your lips looked like you sucked his dick in the bathroom. Did you? Or did he suck on them like a Hoover vacuum?”

I have no clue how she says the most ridiculous things as seriously as she does, not even cracking a smile.

My chest and face feel fifty shades of pink. I dramatically throw myself face first onto the couch in front of us, grabbing a pillow to drone her out. She means well and all, but it doesn’t make it easier.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I learned my lesson.” Cushions muffle my voice.

“I sure hope so. Daniel is a nice guy who’s hesitant about giving you another chance.” She plucks the pillow from my face and stares at me, green eyes glittering under the dim lighting.

“You talked to him about it?” I cringe at my whininess.

She shakes her head. “Not exactly. But I can read these things. Call it intuition.”

“Next one will go better. Maybe we shouldn’t go somewhere public.” I get her hopes up, pretending to agree to another date I have no intention of following through on. No need to lead a poor guy on when my mind is on someone else.

“I don’t think it’ll happen because we are engaging in stage two of the plan.”

Sophie’s second phase fills me with uncertainty.

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