Genesis stared down at Kieran, who was kneeling between her legs, his hand resting lightly on her bare thighs. She had the urge to reach down, thread her fingers through his hair, hold him close, letting him know that she could never truly stay angry at him. He was good to her—he always had been even when didn't have to and that's the truth.

But she didn’t want to let him off that easily.

Not yet.

She wanted him to feel bad. Not about what he had done exactly—because she knew he wouldn’t. In his mind, what he’d done was necessary, part of his role. But she wanted him to...