“I don’t need you to hate me, Little Star,” he continues, casting a shiver down my spine. “But you can if you need to. You can hate me all you want, but that’s not going to stop me.” I realize how heavy I’m breathing when my arms continuously brush against his shirt. The room spins. I swallow. “Stop you from what?” The grin he gives me is wolfish, downright erotic. “Doing whatever the fuck I want.”
