Page 13

“No,” he breathed, not taking her hand.

“Please,” she begged.

“No,” he repeated. He sounded like a damn broken record.

“Coward,” she said, taunting him.

Butcher barked out a low laugh despite himself. “No one has ever called me that before,” he admitted. Her eyes sparkled triumphantly, and he knew that he was fighting a losing battle.

“You coming or not?” she asked. “I can just ask Wade to dance with me if you don’t want to.” He should have told her no again. Instead, minutes later, he found himself standing on the dance floor with Princess pressed against him while slow music drifted through the bar. This was definitely hell. A different kind than before, but hell, all the same because everyone was watching them.

His hand settled carefully against her waist while hers rested against his chest. She was too close. Way too fucking close. Princess tilted her head slightly. “See, you didn’t spontaneously combust.”

“It’s still a possibility,” he grumbled. She laughed softly, and damn if that sound didn’t wreck him a little bit more.

They moved slowly together, neither spoke much at first, because they didn’t need to. The tension between them said enough. Her body fit against his too naturally—like she belonged there. Like maybe both of them were lonely enough to mistake temporary comfort for something real, which was a dangerous thought.

Butcher looked down at her—big mistake. The lights from the bar caught in her dark hair while her eyes stayed locked on him like she wasn’t afraid of him at all. Nobody looked at him like that anymore. Not without wanting something. But Princess looked curious. She seemed drawn to him, and somehow that was worse.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” she murmured.

“You make that difficult not to do,” he whispered into her ear. Her fingers curled slightly against his chest. The movement felt intimate enough to knock the breath from his lungs.

“Maybe I like making you uncomfortable,” she taunted.

Butcher’s grip tightened against her waist instinctively. “You don’t understand how dangerous that game is, Princess.” Her lips parted slightly, and that was it. That tiny sound and the shy look from her, and he was a goner. He was completely fucking gone.

Butcher stopped moving entirely, staring down at her while the rest of the bar blurred into background noise. She seemed to feel the electricity humming between them, too. He knew she did, because suddenly her breathing matched his—uneven and heavy as though she was waiting for something.

“Tell me to stop,” he said quietly. She didn’t. Christ. That last thread of control snapped, and Butcher grabbed her jaw gently but firmly and kissed her. The second their mouths met, the entire damn world seemed to disappear. The kiss was hot and hungry as her gasp melted straight into his mouth. Princess grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling herself closer like she needed him just as badly as he wanted her. That nearly destroyed him.

Butcher kissed her deeper as months, no, years of restraint unraveled all at once. She tasted like whiskey and temptation and every bad decision he’d spent ten years trying to avoid. The bar erupted somewhere around them. It was probably Wade being an asshole, but Butcher didn’t care. Not when Princess was kissing him back like she’d been waiting for this, too. Not when her fingers slid into his hair and tugged hard enough to make his entire body tense. Jesus Christ.

He finally pulled back only because breathing became necessary. He looked her over, which was a big mistake because Princess looked completely wrecked. Her flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and dark eyes stared up at him like she wasn’t sure what hit her either. Butcher knew instantly that he was absolutely screwed now.

PRINCESS

Princess couldn’t breathe properly after he kissed her. The entire bar had disappeared around them the second Butcher’s mouth crashed against hers, and now, even after he pulled back, her pulse still pounded hard enough to make her dizzy.

This was bad. It was so incredibly bad because she liked him. It wasn’t just attraction—not just his rough hands and dark eyes and sinful mouth. She liked him, and women like Princess didn’t survive by getting attached to men like Butcher. But standing there in his arms with his forehead resting briefly against hers, she couldn’t seem to remember why that mattered.

“Princess,” he said roughly, like her name physically hurt him now.

Her stomach twisted. “Yeah?” Butcher looked down at her like he was trying to talk himself out of something. But he didn’t get the chance because Wade ruined the moment completely.

“FINALLY,” he shouted from somewhere behind the bar. The entire place burst into laughter, and Princess jerked back slightly, mortified.

Butcher looked homicidal. “You’re dead,” he called toward Wade without taking his eyes off her.

Wade just raised a beer triumphantly. “Oh, it’s worth it.”

Princess laughed helplessly despite herself, covering her face briefly. “This is humiliating.”

Butcher’s hand slid around her wrist gently, pulling her attention back to him. “No,” he said quietly. “It’s not.” The way he said it made her chest ache unexpectedly, like this meant something to him, too. That realization should’ve scared her more than it did. Instead, it made her want him even worse. God, she was screwed.

“Would you mind taking me home?” she breathed. She needed a cold shower and some time alone to think about everything that had just happened.

“Sure,” he whispered. “But dinner on my fucking tab, Wade,” he shouted over the music. He grabbed her hand and guided her off the dance floor and out of the bar, not bothering to look back at Wade, who had been shouting obscene comments to them as they left.