Work For It (Naiad Novels Book 1)

Daniel kisses my neck as we stand in the crowded subway car, soft butterfly touches that could be perceived as innocent if I didn’t know where this was headed. It’s blatant PDA, the kind I probably wouldn’t allow from anyone else, and something I never expected from a man I thought was cold and incapable of emotion. This public declaration is proof that I was wrong all along.

The people around us have to notice what he’s doing, but the best thing about New York is that no one cares. Here, everyone is in their own little world, including us.

“You called me shameless once,” I remind him. My words are barely audible over the screech of the wheels on the track and the wind rushing through the narrow open windows. “But I think that title belongs to you.”

“Guilty,” he says between kisses, the possessive arm around my waist tightening as the train sways.

Every time his lips meet my skin, my pulse quickens. And when his fingers trace patterns on my ribs, my breathing joins the race. Then he backs off, allowing my heart rate to slow and my breaths to even out, until he starts all over again.

He knows what he does to me, and there’s no doubt that he’s reveling in the power he has over me. This is a man who loves to edge me both in and out of the bedroom. And I look forward to it every time, no matter how much I protest to the contrary.

“You’re a tease as well,” I accuse, placing my hand over his to keep it from moving.

He smiles. “A tease? Really?” His nose brushes up my jaw until his mouth is at my ear. “How exactly am I a tease, Selene?”

I swallow hard and stand with my feet a little closer together to ease the growing ache between my legs. “Because there are still three more stops before ours, and you have the nerve to touch me like that.”

“Like what?” The question is innocent, but the way he presses against my back—and what I feel of him when he does—is far from it.

“You’re the worst.” I’m struggling to find my breath. “I hate you.”

His laugh simultaneously boils my blood and sends heat blooming within me. “I know, baby.”

Time slows, drawing out the torture, but once the train pulls up at the last station on our journey, I’m the one dragging Daniel out the doors, up the steps, and onto the packed streets of the city. I don’t bother looking back at him; with his hand curled around mine, I don’t have to worry about him following along or getting lost in the crowd. And once again, I find myself not caring who sees us.

I only glance at him once we’re pushing through the doors of the hotel lobby, taking in the intensity of his gaze on me. “What?”

Daniel gives my fingers a small squeeze as I tug him toward the bank of elevators. “One more chance to back out.”

My heart stutters. Why would I want to back out? I thought I made it abundantly clear that I want more—more of this, more of him, more of the sparks we create together. We can’t predict whether they’ll fizzle out, but for now, I want to fan the flames.

“I’m not backing out,” I tell him. “I want this.” I want you. “Do you?”

For a brief, sick moment, I worry that he’s silently trying to convey that he doesn’t want this anymore. That he wants an out for himself without having to be the one to say it. It’s an outrageous thought, especially considering all that he’s declared to me at various points today, but the doubts still linger.

Before I can get too lost in the spiral, I’m jerked back out of it. Because there it is, making its triumphant return—the fucking condescending smile I want to slap off his perfect face.

“Selene,” he says, a tinge of disappointment in his tone. “You were doing so well.”

I shrink in on myself at the reminder that I’ve been so oblivious to his advances. How could I have missed so many hints?

I know he can feel my embarrassment, because the smile falls away as he hits the button for the elevator and tugs me to his chest.

The humor in his eyes is gone. All that remains is a glint of worry. “What the fuck do I keep doing to make you think I don’t want you?”

I’m still recovering from the brush-off and the alleged date, even after learning the truth. But what it really comes down to are my own insecurities. In the past, I’ve been led to believe I was wanted, only to discover it was a lie. Or that the desire was conditional. Only if I acted a certain way or played by someone else’s rules. They didn’t want all of me—just bits and pieces or what they could get out of me. I don’t know what it’s like to be wanted as a whole person.

But he doesn’t know that because he doesn’t know me, not really. I haven’t given him the chance to know me out of fear that this could end at any second and my heart would be crushed when it did.

I open my mouth, ready to tell him that I’m the problem. That my hang-ups are the issue here, but the elevator doors slide open before I can. Without hesitation, Daniel guides me along behind him until we’re both inside. He studies me expectantly as I hit the button for the twenty-second floor, then duck my chin, hoping he can’t see how red my cheeks are. Thankfully, no one else joins us in the awkward few seconds before the doors shut, giving us the privacy I’ve been desperate for since we left the office.

Daniel lets go of my hand in favor of cupping my face and forcing me to look at him. “Don’t push me away,” he murmurs, his gaze searching. “Just let me in, Selene.”

I don’t know what to say to his pleas—so I simply brace my palms on his chest, push up onto my tiptoes, and brush my lips over his. It’s a ghost of a kiss, an open invitation. A whispered come in. The door is fully open now; it’s up to him to step through. I’ve already made my choice.

In response, Daniel leans down for a proper kiss, sending relief coursing through me. He slides one hand behind my neck to keep me in place while the other lingers on my cheek. When his tongue strokes over mine possessively, there’s no question about who or what he wants.

Heat pools low in my stomach, like it always does when his hands are on me. I run my fingers through his hair, wanting to pull him closer, desperate for more. I crave it. Crave him.

We break apart for breath just as the elevator doors reopen. It takes a moment before I’m coherent enough to guide him in the direction of my room. I fumble in my bag for the key, but before I can get a grip on it, Daniel slips it from my fingers and taps it against the sensor. Then he’s pushing down on the handle with more coordination than I could have dreamed of and pulling me inside.

The second the door is shut behind us, he drags me back to him and kisses me again, leaving me simultaneously melting into his arms and shocked by the electric current that passes between us. It steals my breath away as he backs me against the wall, and I nearly whimper when his lips leave mine. I haven’t had enough of him, not yet.

“Last chance,” he whispers against my ear. “After this, I’m not letting you walk away.”

I could say the same to him. There’s no way I can give him up now, no matter how dangerous he is for my heart.

Instead, I smile slowly and tell him, “If I can walk after this, then you’ve done something wrong.”