Page 96 of Hunt Me, Daddy

Me.

I ate one bite of chicken and let my attention move over the screen.

“You edited this.”

“Yes.”

“You’re admitting that too?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you would know if I lied.”

“I might not.”

“You would.”

His confidence was either flattering or insulting. Probably both.

“What did you remove?” I asked.

“The parts that are not necessary for the next few hours.”

“I’m going to need you to understand that I consider that sentence an act of violence.”

“I assumed you would.”

“Do you ever get tired of being insufferable?”

“No.”

“Good. Consistency matters.”

He smiled just the tiniest bit, but his gaze didn’t leave mine.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I said.

“No.”

“Ivan.”

“Kit.”

“If you say my name like that again, I’m going to do something stupid.”

His mouth curved faintly. “Good.”

That was when I kissed him.

Or he kissed me.

We’d done this once before, in an event I’d let myself file under accidentalorgasm. This was not an accident. This was me deciding to do the single stupidest thing I had ever wanted to do. I planned to blame him later anyway.

His mouth met mine with the kind of control that should not have felt as devastating as it did. He did not crush me. He did not grab first. He waited one fraction of a second after contact, as if giving me the choice to pull back.

I did not.