I stare at him. The words hit me like bullets, each one lodging deep in my chest, impossible to dislodge.
Making love.
Last night.
Moon's blue gaze holds mine, steady and unblinking, the morning light catching the edges of his irises, turning them almost translucent. A slow, deliberate smile curves his lips—the smile of a man who knows exactly what he's doing.
"What if your lover finds out?" His voice is silk wrapped around steel, each word a small, precise incision.
"I'm curious about his reaction."
My face changes. "You bastard—"
"Shh." His finger presses against my lips, warm and insistent.
"Be quiet. Or I'll kiss you."
I press my lips together instinctively, sealing them shut. His gaze drops from my eyes to my mouth, lingers there. I can feel the weight of it, a physical thing.
"Zyren."
His voice is a whisper now, intimate, devastating, meant for no one but me. "If you want, I can keep it a secret. No one will know what happened between us."
