He stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged, but his gaze on hers went dark and stormy, letting her know the casual attitude was a sham.

“I just wanted to see you.”

She studied his face, and his green gaze settled on hers. And she was consumed for several long moments, just like at the club. Desire. Confusion. Anxiety.

Desire.

No.

“You ‘just wanted to see me.’ Out of the blue? After seeing me at The Bastille, it’s out of the blue?”

“No, not out of the blue. I’d like to say so, but the truth is I’ve wanted to come talk to you since I saw you Friday night.”

She waved a dismissive hand, pretending to be unaffected by the idea of him watching her even as everything in her contracted with razor-sharp arousal. “If you came here to give me one of your lectures, you can save it. I’m a consenting adult and I know exactly what I’m doing.”

He took a step closer and she hated that her pulse went thready.

“I didn’t come here to lecture you. How could I? I was there, too, and I may be a lot of things, but I’m no hypocrite.” He paused, and she saw his throat working as he swallowed hard. “I also saw Allie and we talked, so I know how you came to be there, and I understand she’d have warned you I’d probably show up at some point.”

She nodded warily. Jamie wasn’t going to lecture her? That was a first. “She did. She informed me of all the risks I’d be taking. Nice place, The Bastille. Nice and roomy. Surely there’s enough space for both of us there. If it makes you too uncomfortable, I’ll schedule around you and go when you don’t plan to be there.”

He took another step toward her and her hand tightened around the ceramic mug, her pulse sputtering.

“Why would you want to go and do that, Summer Grace? It may seem like I don’t appreciate how much you’ve grown—that you’ve grown up. It may seem—and granted, you’d probably be right—that I’ve mostly treated you like a child. But—”

“You think?”

He cracked a grin then, his dimples flashing again. “I know. And I’m sorry. It’s time I stopped. Hell, it’s time I stopped denying what you seem to have known about us since you were just a kid.”

She blinked hard. “About us?”

“I think you know what I mean.”

She thought she did, too—she simply couldn’t believe it. “And this realization about us hit you on Friday night?” Her stomach knotted and a small rage burned through her. “Friday night, when I was naked at The Bastille and getting spanked? That’s when the stars aligned and you had this epiphany about wanting to play with me, or wanting to have sex with me? Seriously, Jamie?”

He had the grace to look surprised. “What? No, it’s not like that. Is that what you think of me?”

His tone was laced with that trace of Scottish accent that only came out when he was worked up about something, or sometimes when he’d had a few beers. He’d been in the U.S. since he was seven years old, and the accent was mostly long-buried. Something deeper was going on with him.

“No. No. I just . . . What is it then, Jamie? What are you trying to say?”

There was a long pause while his features relaxed. “Maybe it’s that I’ve woken up, and about time, too. All these years I’ve turned away from you, from what I’ve wanted, and now I’m not sure I even know why.”

“Because you’re so damn noble?” she teased, still half mad but unable to restrain her desire to make him smile. “The White Knight of New Orleans, saving fair maidens from having to make their own decisions.”

The dimples were back. “Yeah. I deserved that.” His tone softened. “I don’t want to turn away anymore. I want you, Summer Grace.”

“Jamie . . .”

She turned her back to him and took a few steps down the brick path, emotion roiling inside her. She’d been mad when she spit out the words, but he had just seen her naked. He had just found out about her desire for kink. And now he’d shown up in her garden on a Sunday morning telling her, after all these years, that he wanted her.

He wanted her.

How long had she been waiting to hear those words? How many times had he laughed her off or turned her down when she came on to him, denying the chemistry she knew was between them? Too damn many.

She whirled around, ready to give him a good scolding for being a superficial prick and send him on his way for a change, but as her body turned she collided with him. His arms went around her, yanking her in tight.

“Jamie? What the—”

He cut her off by crushing her mouth to his and she melted into him, her head bent back as he leaned over her, his hot, wet tongue parting her lips with a silent demand. And oh God, he tasted good. Like coffee and warm flesh and sex. His arms tightened until she could barely breathe, but it only made her go wet, her legs shaking. It was Jamie kissing her like this, with a hunger and a heat that went through her like a shot of pure desire.

When he paused they were both breathing hard. He hadn’t let her go. She couldn’t make herself open her eyes, afraid it would stop. Afraid he’d kiss her again. Afraid he wouldn’t.

No. Oh God, yes . . .

“Jamie,” she whispered, not sure if she was going to argue or ask for more.

He didn’t give her a chance to make up her mind. He buried his fingers in her hair until they were close to her scalp and pulled, exactly the right way. His mouth came down on hers once more, bruising her lips. She loved it. She loved . . .

No!

She dropped the mug on the brick path with a crash and pushed hard on his shoulders, pulling her mouth from his.

“Damn it, Jamie! Don’t do this to me. You’ve never wanted me before and now . . . Goddamn it, I liked that mug,” she sputtered.

“Shh. Come here, Summer Grace,” he said softly, his grip on her waist like iron as he moved her away from the shards but didn’t let her go. His hold on her was so hard. So commanding. “I’ve wanted you for years. You know how much. You always have.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her neck, paused to bite just hard enough to pinch the skin between his teeth, then kissed the tender spot again.

Her head was spinning, her body melting. But she was furious, too.

“I’m not that kid anymore.”

He laughed softly. “Oh, I can see that. I can feel it.”

She tried to struggle in his grasp, but he took both her hands in one of his and held on tight, pressing their hands to his chest, the other arm still like a vise around her waist.

“Damn it, Jamie. You can’t do this—just march into my quiet Sunday morning like you think you have the right. Like you can simply take what you want after telling me to run along.”

He pulled back to look into her eyes. “Tell me you don’t want this, Summer Grace,” he demanded, his tone a low growl. “Tell me you don’t feel the same and I’ll go.”

“No.”

“No, what? No, you don’t want me here, kissing you, touching you?” He lowered his voice until it was a purr filled with heat and gravel. “Or no, don’t stop?”

She shook her head, her mind and body at war. “I don’t fucking know!”

He was quiet a moment, his gaze hard on hers. “Then answer this question: Are you all right? Are you still in subspace from Friday night? Subdrop? Did seeing me there fuck with your head space?”

“What? No, I’m fine,” she lied.

“Swear it to me.”

“I am fucking fine, Jamie. I was perfect until you arrived.” She tried to pull her hands away but he only tightened his grip.

“Do you want me to stop? Because you’ve been at the club and apparently mentored by Allie and Rosie, so you understand how this works. You know damn well I need consent, even with you. Hell, maybe even more because it’s you. I should have fucking had it before I kissed you.”

“Still the white knight?” she asked.

“Yeah. Still am. To a point.” He lowered his head until his lush lips were inches from hers. Until she could feel his warm breath on her skin. “But I need to touch you so badly that if you don’t tell me to go right now, the white knight act is gonna disappear in a hurry, and I will be all over you like an animal, Summer Grace. So what’s it gonna be? Yes? Or no?”