CHAPTER 12 THE SECOND HEAT #3
Dario exhaled, slow and controlled. Then he flipped their positions, pinning her against the wall with one hand braced beside her head. His other hand traced the line of her throat, not quite a threat but close enough to remind her who she was dealing with.
"Only if you stop," he said.
The air between them crackled. not merely heat—something sharper, something that tasted like a challenge. Evelyn had spent years learning how to read people, how to anticipate their moves before they made them. But Dario? He wasn’t just reacting. He was recalibrating.
She liked that.
Her fingers slid into his hair, pulling him down to her again. This time, he didn’t let her lead. His kiss was deliberate, possessive, the kind of thing that should have felt like a warning but instead sent a shiver down her spine.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered the sound of footsteps—Daniel, probably, circling back to report. But right now, that didn’t matter.
Dario’s teeth grazed her lower lip, just enough to make her gasp. His voice was rough when he spoke next. "Still think you’re in control?"
Evelyn laughed, low and breathless. "I never said I was."
His grip tightened. "Good."
And then there was no more talking.
* * *
New rule-clue: Daniel's footsteps stop just outside the door—hesitating before retreating, recognizing a boundary he shouldn’t cross.
The sudden silence beyond the door was its own kind of answer.
Daniel wouldn’t interrupt, not now—not when the tension in the room was a live wire even a fool wouldn’t touch.
Evelyn registered the absence of sound, the unspoken concession, and let it go.
Later, she’d decide whether to acknowledge it.
For now, Dario’s hands were on her hips, his mouth trailing a slow, deliberate path along her jaw. She arched into the contact, and his fingers dug in just enough to make her breath catch. Not pain, not quite—just the implicit promise of it.
"You’re thinking," he murmured against her skin.
"Always."
He nipped at the curve of her throat, and she felt the smirk against her pulse. "Then do it quieter."
She would’ve laughed if his free hand hadn’t slid under the hem of her shirt, fingers skimming the bare skin of her waist. The touch was calculated, testing—like he was mapping the exact places that would make her shiver. And damn him, it worked.
Evelyn retaliated by catching his lower lip between her teeth, biting down just hard enough to make him groan. His grip on her tightened, pulling her flush against him, and she could feel the way his breathing had gone uneven. A small victory, but a satisfying one.
The scrape of his stubble against her cheek was rough, the heat of his mouth insistent. She could taste the sharp edge of his restraint, the way he let her push just so far before countering. It was a game, one she hadn’t realized she’d wanted to play until now.
Then his palm flattened against the small of her back, pressing her harder into the wall. "Still so sure of yourself?"
She dragged her nails down the nape of his neck, smiling at the way his muscles tensed under her touch. "Are you?"
For a heartbeat, he just looked at her—eyes dark, expression unreadable. Then he leaned in, his voice a low, dangerous hum against her ear. "Try me."
The words curled under her skin, a challenge and a dare. But before she could answer, the distant creak of floorboards echoed down the hall—Daniel, finally walking away. The moment fractured, just slightly, the outside world intruding.
Dario didn’t pull back, but she felt the shift in him, the way his attention sharpened. Evelyn exhaled, slow and deliberate, and hooked a finger in his belt loop to keep him close.
"Later," she said.
His thumb brushed the hinge of her jaw. "Counting on it."
The moment Daniel’s footsteps faded, Dario’s hand slid from Evelyn’s waist to the small of her back, pressing her closer.
His other hand cupped her jaw, thumb tracing the line of her pulse.
She could feel the heat of him through her clothes, the controlled strength in his grip, but it was the way he watched her—like she was a puzzle he’d already solved but still wanted to take apart—that made her breath catch.
"You’re thinking too loud," he murmured.
She arched a brow. "You don’t know what I’m thinking."
"I know you’re weighing whether to push me against that wall or walk away." His mouth curved, just slightly. "I’m curious which one wins."
Evelyn tightened her grip on his belt loop, pulling him flush against her. "You’re awfully sure of yourself."
"Observation, not arrogance." His fingers skimmed up her spine, deliberate, testing. "You don’t do anything without calculating the cost. Including this."
She should’ve laughed it off, should’ve stepped back.
But the way he said it—like he saw the gears turning in her head, like he wanted to see them—sent a thrill through her.
This wasn’t just physical attraction anymore.
It was something deeper, something that made her skin prickle with anticipation and unease in equal measure.
Dario tilted his head, studying her. "You’re not used to someone keeping up."
"Or someone who doesn’t flinch when I bare my teeth," she countered.
His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. "I like your teeth."
The words shouldn’t have hit her like they did. But they did. And that was the problem.
A floorboard groaned overhead—Daniel, moving again.
Dario didn’t react, but Evelyn felt the shift in his posture, the way his body angled to shield her from the hallway sightline without breaking their contact.
It was instinctive, protective in a way that had nothing to do with possession and everything to do with…
something else. Something she wasn’t ready to name.
She exhaled sharply. "This complicates things."
"Only if you let it." His voice was low, rough at the edges. "We don’t have to put a label on it."
"That’s not what I’m worried about."
His fingers stilled on her back. "Then what?"
Evelyn hesitated. The truth hovered on her tongue—I don’t know how to do this without losing ground—but she swallowed it. Instead, she dragged her nails lightly down his chest, felt the muscle tense under her touch. "You tell me. You’re the one who’s good at reading people."
Dario caught her wrist, not hard, but enough to stop her. His grip was warm, his fingers circling her pulse point like he could measure her heartbeat and decode it. "You’re not merely another person to read."
The admission hung between them, stark and undeniable. It wasn’t a declaration, wasn’t even close. But it was enough to make her chest tighten.
A phone buzzed in his pocket. Dario ignored it.
Evelyn nodded toward the sound. "That’s your cue."
"It can wait."
She smirked. "Since when does Dario Vitale ignore business?"
"Since now." His gaze locked onto hers, unflinching. "Unless you’re asking me to leave."
The challenge was there, clear as day. Make the call.
Evelyn knew the smart move. Knew the safe one. But for once, she didn’t want either.
She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "I’m not asking."
His grip tightened fractionally, and then his mouth was on hers, hot and demanding. It wasn’t like before—no teasing, no games. Just hunger, raw and unchecked. Evelyn let herself sink into it, let the heat of him drown out the voice in her head whispering this is a mistake.
The phone buzzed again. And again.
Dario broke the kiss with a muttered curse, pulling the phone from his pocket. The screen lit up with a series of messages, the last one stark in its simplicity:
They found the ledger.
His expression didn’t change, but Evelyn felt the shift in him—the sudden, icy focus.
She stepped back, crossing her arms. "Problem?"
"Always." He pocketed the phone, but his eyes stayed on her. "I have to go."
She nodded, already rebuilding the walls between them. "Then go."
Dario caught her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "This isn’t over."
It wasn’t a question.
Evelyn held his stare, her pulse hammering. "No," she agreed softly. "It’s not."
He left without another word, the door clicking shut behind him.
She exhaled, long and slow, and pressed her fingers to her lips. They still tingled from his kiss.
Damn it.
The ledger was trouble. She knew that much. And the next move, it wouldn’t be simple.
But for the first time in years, Evelyn wasn’t sure she cared.