She huffed. “I guess we both have questions that won’t get answered.”

The way she focused on him, intent, powerful, made him drown in the sparkling gorgeousness of her conviction. She had unending faith in them. In their love. And fuck, it was tearing him apart. He wanted to tell her, to announce the truth and let her know this divorce wasn’t what he wanted. It was what he needed—to protect her.

He’d changed her. Shaped a beautifully innocent woman into a skillful seductress because of his wants and desires. He’d driven her to be curious about a place like the filthy establishment in Brisbane. But that was only half of his problem. The rest was out of his control. There was so much she didn’t know, and telling her would only inflict more pain.

“I guess we’re done here.” She paused for a moment, waiting for words he couldn’t find. With an overly dramatic flick of her hair over her shoulder, she turned on her heel and sauntered out of the bathroom, leaving him to sink into infatuation.

He couldn’t help it. Couldn’t fight it. No matter how much time they spent apart, he’d always want her. Need her. Beg to be between her heavenly thighs, tearing murmurs of adoration from her lips. Even just to hold her. To comfort. He’d give all their years together if they could start again. He had no control over his body’s reaction to Cassie. His palms itched to touch, his lips ached at the thought of a kiss.

There had never been anything more mesmerizing than the love and affection he’d once glimpsed in her eyes. Yet here, now, the spark of determination he’d seen burning inside her was like a physical caress over his cock.

He all but jogged from the bathroom, yanking the door open with too much force. “How did you get down here?” His voice was loud, almost a yell. He still needed answers. Even more so, he needed her proximity.

She stopped at the foot of the large bed in the center of the room and slid a hand on her hip. “I followed you down here, remember?”

“You know I’m not talking about tonight.” He lumbered toward her, clenching his fists at his sides to stop from reaching for her. “Tell me when you’ve been down here before.”

“Or what?” She cocked a brow. “What are you going to do if I don’t tell?”

He growled his frustration, the rumble burning from his chest all the way up his throat. “I already know the answer. I could tell by your lack of surprise when you walked in here tonight. I’d just been too distracted until now to pick up on it. There’s no point denying the truth, Cass. I know you’ve been down here.”

Her lips tilted in a seductive curve. “Maybe.”

“Who let you in?”

The curve of her lips increased. “That’s not your concern anymore, remember?”

Jealousy, thick and rich, pulsed through his veins. “Cassie.” Her name vibrated from his lips in a lethal combination of anger and anguish.

“Tate,” she mimicked.

“When?” The bed was right here. At his side. A taunting possibility that he could throw her on the mattress and tie her down until he’d sated himself inside her addictive body. “Did a staff member show you around? Was it Travis? Shay? Or was it during a party night?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?” She was enjoying this. The excitement was in her eyes, the kick of her lips. He was revealing his cards. Showing her he still cared. “Why, T.J.? You made it clear you no longer love me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to fall into her trap. He wanted to deny it, to explain exactly how much her love meant to him. But he couldn’t afford to take another retreating step tonight.

“You entered the club without my knowledge. I want to know how.” He opened his eyes and peered down at her, taking the final step between them. She had a hold of him. Every limb, every breath. He could no longer stand the thought of her down here without him. The need to know burned through his veins. The images of her amongst the club patrons was torture.

“Please.” He glided his fingers over her jaw, gently grabbed her chin and savored the way her eyes fluttered closed. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Cassie. I can only imagine the impact you had on the regulars if you came down here while it was open.”

He ran his thumb over her chin, grazing the sensitive skin just below her mouth. “Was it, sweetheart? Did you come here to play? Did Brute see you? Leo?”

She was falling under his spell, her lips parting in need. Problem was, he was equally consumed with desire. His cock was throbbing, pounding in an incessant beat to match his pulse.

He ran a hand through her loose hair and placed the other on her hip, ascending, climbing higher until his palm was almost at the curve of her breast. “Tell me,” he whispered. “When were you down here?”

She shook her head, denying him her thoughts, but not her body. Her head leaned into his grasp, her chest into his, the warmth of her abdomen scorching his cock.

He was slipping out of lucidity, his head now filled with thoughts of pleasure, his body lost to the possibility of release. He leaned in, brushed his lips over the perfection of the smooth skin below her ear and breathed in her perfume.

“Tell me.” He was no longer sure what he was asking for. Couldn’t remember why he was even here, apart from the need to have her.

Her hands came to rest on his pecs. The greedy scratch of her nails above his shirt drove him insane with want. It had been over twelve months since he’d paid homage to her body. More than 365 days. An eternity.

His mind knew that was way too long. His cock did too. It was his heart, the painful ache in his chest that tainted the moment, reminding him he’d made the choice to give up this pleasure. He couldn’t succumb under the weight of attraction.

But he’d started this for a reason. He still needed answers. Sleeping at night wouldn’t be an option if he didn’t find out when she’d been here and what she’d done. He pulled back, waited until her eyes blinked open, before he wove her hair around his fist, making it impossible for her to move. “I need to know.”

“And I need you.” She trailed her fingertips down his chest, over his stomach to the crotch of his pants. Her hand palmed his cock, releasing a needy little moan as she did it.

He snarled, hating how weak she made him, fighting the burn of attraction as she nuzzled her nose against his. “Tell me.”

He didn’t wait for an answer he knew wasn’t coming. Instead, he smashed his mouth against hers and gripped the back of her head to hold her tightly. He parted her lips with his tongue and ground his erection into her He could feel her everywhere—against his chest, in his mind, through his soul.

“Tell me,” he demanded into her mouth.

She whimpered, her body going languid against him. Her lips were the most delicate silk, her scent an intoxicating blend of everything sweet and vulnerable in the world. She gripped his shirt and pulled it from his waistband, brushing her fingers against his skin like a branding iron.

His need for answers became lost in the urgency to have her. Twelve months, he kept repeating to himself. He’d done without this for twelve months. How had he lived? How had he breathed?

He lifted her, placed her on the clean sheets of the bed in the middle of the room and then strode for the door, slamming it shut with a hard shove of his trembling hand.

When he turned to her, she was on her back, resting against her elbows, her body a vision he’d been starved of. He wanted to make it right, to turn off the fluorescent lights and bathe her in the warm glow of the lamp, but this wasn’t about setting a mood or deepening her already infallible appeal. This was about finding answers. It was. It really, really was. If only he could focus.

He stormed for her, not stopping until his knees hit the mattress, jolting the bed frame. “Tell me,” he demanded. “When were you here?”