There was that infuriating word again, wielded like a weapon.
“I—”
“Come on, Willow!” He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “As your Dom, as a man, it’s my responsibility to take care of you. If I had fucked you as hard as I wanted in that room, I’d be the asshole you think I am.”
She leaned back against the headrest.
“I’m trying to be a decent human being.”
With a small grin she turned to look at him. The car was intimate and quiet. “Is it as difficult as it sounds?”
“Keeping my hands off you? Yeah. I’ve got it for you. Bad.” He gave into the temptation that was Willow Henderson and leaned across the car to capture her chin. “May I kiss you?”
For a second, she said nothing.
“You’ve got your chance to reject me.” And maybe she should.
“Kiss me, Jax.”
He did. At first, he teased, waiting for her response. When she gave it, he slid his hand inside her jacket, then her crop top.
Some idiot kid knocked on the window and gave him a thumbs-up.
Jax shook his head. “I’m going to need more privacy to seduce you.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“If you’ll have me.”
There was silence. Loud and echoing.
Finally, her words the barest of whispers, she said, “I accept your invitation to join you for a drink.”
Pride and possession thrummed through him.
Within minutes, they were in the lobby, and the concierge directed them to an intimate bar. It had old-world elegance, with oversize leather chairs, small round tables, and silver dishes filled with premium nuts. In the center of the room, a musician played a piano, providing a soothing background.
Willow ordered a dry white wine, and he opted for a premium whiskey.
“So…” She regarded him over the rim of her glass. “About this seduction.”
“I don’t sleep around, and I don’t discard women. If we sleep together, there’s no going back.”