Page 12 of The Perfect Wrong

That stupid summer pact, still taunting me.

We dance on for another wild minute. I actually crack a smile and laugh when he swings me out before reeling me back in again.

But he must see the restlessness in my eyes, the sadness, the worry.

“Princess, what’s wrong? Bad memories?”

“No, it’s just...” I trail off, stumbling over my next step.

That’s when I feel the tear rolling down my cheek like a hot knife.

Oh.

Oh, crud.

“I’m s-sorry,” I stammer, ripping away from him and almost tripping on the sand. “It’s not you, Chris. You’ve been great. I just...I have a lot on my plate right now. And it’s late and I should go.”

But before I can dart away into the darkness, he catches me around the waist.

Almost enough force to knock my breath out, but he’s so very gentle as he holds me.

“Only if you talk to me first,” he whispers, pressing his jaw softly against my neck. “You don’t know me, I get it. Still, what the fuck kind of man would I be if I let a girl as stunning as you run off crying?”

2

Black Dragon

This night has officially taken one hell of a turn for the weird.

I also meant every word I growled in her ear when I dragged her so close she’s almost bone-deep, pressing her against me, all soft curves and shattered feelings and this fragrant sweetness that makes my nose tingle.

“Delia,talkto me,” I demand again.

For a minute, I feel her broken sobs, this deep poison in her soul bleeding out.

“I can’t, Chris. You won’t understand. It’s stupid.”

I snort loudly in her ear. “Try me. I’ve lived in rooms the size of a shoebox with other dudes for most of my adult life. Whatever dumbass thing you think is so unforgivable, I promise you I’ve heard ten times worse.”

She sniffs, drawing a deep breath. “...so youarein the Navy?”

“Former,” I say, hoping it’ll help draw the truth out.

A secret for a secret.

“You swear you won’t laugh? Really and truly?” she asks, turning to face me all doe-eyed.

“If I laugh, go ahead and kick me square in the balls. I figured you wanted to earlier for trespassing anyway. I won’t even fight it.” I make a quick cross over my heart.

That wins me a smile, andwhat a fucking smile.

Even when her eyes are drowning in hurt, Miss Delia is a looker with her honey-dark eyes and luscious black locks spilling down spotless skin as inviting as virgin canvas.

She rocks the perfect California tan and a Puritan’s innocence.

Curves for miles.

Strawberry-pink lips I want to fucking bite.