I pull in a long breath through my nose. “But enough to make him a serious suspect.”
He nods. “Fair enough. We’ll begin looking into him tomorrow.”
The pressure on my chest eases slightly. He doesn’t think I’m delusional. He’s willing to believe me, help me. And damn, I really kind of like that I have a better suspect than him.
I don’t know if I could keep doubting him. Doubting this.
I trust him.
It’s still such an incredible thing. To trust Jarron, the demon prince.
“But for now,” he murmurs, stepping in closer again, “I have a few other things in mind.”
“Jarron,” I whisper, hyper aware of our nearness. His warm breath against my temple, his hips against mine, his body towering over me.
“Yes?”
“I need to ask you something.”
“Anything,” he whispers, lips grazing against my ear.
“Is this real?” My heart thuds so loudly, and my cheeks warm. It’s the question I’ve avoided for days now. Because dammit, it feels so real. So right. Is he just an incredible actor?
Is this really the game we’ve made it out to be? Or is there more to it?
I’m equal parts desperate for it to be real and terrified of that same thing.
He pulls back, searching my face. What does that reaction mean? My mind is racing, panicking. My hand fists his jacket as he delays his answer. The answer that’s everything. The trajectory of my entire life.
Because if Jarron truly wants me the way everyone believes—the way I’m beginning to believe—I’m pretty confident I couldn’t possibly escape this. Escape him.
I don’t think I want to, not anymore.
“Candice,” he whispers. “It’s always been real to me.”
A shiver cascades down my whole body.
“I just didn’t think it was real to you,” he tells me.
My eyes flutter closed, and I lay my head back against the stone wall. “It wasn’t before,” I admit.
His arms tighten around me, and suddenly his chest is rising and falling in rapid succession. He searches my expression. “Has that changed?” he asks. He sounds as desperate as I am.
Yes, my mind screams, but I can’t make my lips form the word. My traitorous, human heart is too terrified to trust itself. He studies me, though, and he must read the answer in them because he smiles.
Then, his lips are on mine. This is not the sweet, gentle kiss of an hour ago. This is the fulfillment of everything we’ve both been suppressing.
This is the kiss I was expecting. Hoping for. The one that tells me, without a doubt, that he is as desperate for me as I am for him.
His mouth claims mine, his fingers digging into my waist. I push my hips against his involuntarily, and a growl rips from his mouth. I gasp, pulling away for only a moment.
I meet his entirely black eyes, but he’s still the Jarron I know. My Jarron.
Mine.
Aw, crap, I’m in deep. I grab the back of his neck and tug his lips to mine, demanding. His hands slide behind my thighs and lifts, until my feet are off the ground. I let one leg hitch up to his waist. He growls again, and this time it sends a wave of delight through me. His tongue finds mine, and the taste of him fills me. Becomes me.
I forget where I am, what’s happening. I forget who I am. There is only my body and his, tangling and burning. Desperate and passionate.
