Page 102 of An Oath at Midnight

“It’s possible.”

“Oh goody.” We’d called and made an appointment to see him, using the same school reunion bullshit and, surprisingly, he’d agreed to see us.

Bram parked the car, and I looked out the window and up at the building where Luke had his offices. It was architecturally designed by an award-winning architect, twenty stories high and made of black iron with tinted windows. It looked like some dark lair, or the fortress of some evil, maniacal supervillain. “What’s his line of business?”

“He calls himself an entrepreneur and has his fingers in all sorts of pies,” Bram said.

“Sounds messy.”

“Oh yeah, from what I hear, he’s more than happy to get his hands dirty.” Bram glanced my way. “I’m not sure going to see this guy is a good idea.”

It was probably a terrible idea, but we needed to do this. Not only was I feeling the call from my task but my inner spidey senses were definitely telling me I needed to speak to this guy. “I feel drawn to this place, Bram. We need to do this.”

The muscle in his jaw jumped. “Fine, but if I decide we need to leave, we’re getting the fuck out of there, yeah?”

I nodded my agreement and reached for the door handle. Bram tugged the sleeve of my shirt, stopping me.

I turned back and he leaned forward, his eyes dark and hot as they held mine before they dipped to my mouth and back up. “But first, I want you to kiss me.”

The gravel in his voice had tingles dancing all over me. He was being careful, not touching me, not even brushing his fingers over my skin, but still letting me know that he wanted me. A kiss I could handle, and I instantly gave him what he asked for, resting my hand on his chest, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth against his. Heat spiraled through me, and I cupped his jaw, my thumb brushing across the corner of his mouth. Bram groaned and licked the seam of my lips, and I opened for him immediately.

“Can I touch your hair?” he said roughly against my lips.

“Yes.”

He instantly gripped a handful in his fist and tilted my head to the side so he could kiss me harder, deeper, his hunger for me unmistakable. I didn’t want to stop, there was no way I could pull away, but eventually, he slowed things down and lifted his head.

“That was…nice,” I said and grinned up at him.

“Nice?”

“Okay, stupidly hot.”

He licked his lips. “Definitely a more accurate description.”

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what he said last night, and that kiss had his words flying around my head again.

“What is it?” he said, seeing right through me.

My cheeks warmed. “It’s nothing.”

He grabbed my shirt at my belly, fisting it, stopping my retreat, but again being careful not to touch me. “It’s not nothing. Talk to me.”

“Bram…honestly, it’s nothing.”

He studied me for several seconds, and I thought he’d drop it. Instead, he leaned closer. “I’m your male, Magnolia. We may not have mated yet, but we should be able to talk about anything, no matter how hard, or”—he swiped his fingers over my hot cheek, allowing himself that brief contact—“embarrassed we are.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” I said, and I wasn’t totally lying.

“Good, so tell me what you’re thinking.”

I blew out a breath, attempting to steady the butterflies in my belly. “I’ve been thinking about what you said…last night.”

“What did I say?” he said, but judging by the way his gaze had heated, he knew exactly what I was talking about.

“Don’t play with me, B. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” I said.

“I haven’t even begun to play with you, Mags,” he said, his voice so impossibly deep I barely suppressed a shiver. “I’ve had a long time to think about it, what I want to do to you. I tried not to, I did, but there was no stopping my mind conjuring up all kinds of dirty shit. All the things I’d do if you were mine.”