“Jax…” I whispered.

He placed one hand on the glass beside my head, caging me in without touching me. His other hand hovered just above my hip, not quite making contact.

“Tell me the truth, little sister,” he said, leaning in until his lips brushed the shell of my ear. “Have you been thinking about that kiss we shared four years ago? The one where I pushed you away because you were too innocent… and I was already too fucked up?”

My breath hitched. “Every day.”

He groaned softly, forehead almost resting against mine.

“I’ve thought about it too,” he confessed, voice rough. “Every fucking night. I’ve jerked off to...