CHAPTER 2: FINGER-FUCKED AT THE BAR

SIENNA’S POVHe turned fully on his stool, his knee brushing mine deliberately. A jolt of pure, undiluted electricity shot straight to my core, making me bite back a gasp.

“Or,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that dripped sex and scorn, “you could stop pretending you don’t want my cock buried so deep in that smart mouth of yours you forget how to form a sentence, or how to cite a source without moaning my name.”

That was it. The final straw, the spark to the powder keg.

I threw back the scotch, the burn a pale imitation of the fire...