“Stop. Saying. That. Fucking. Word.” I was breathing just as heavily as he was, and I really wanted him to kiss me again. “What word?” His fist balled against the glass. “‘Just’ is my least favorite four-letter word. You’re not just anything.” He licked his lips, his eyes flicking down and studying my mouth. His usual chipper tenor turned to a lethal baritone. “I don’t like being angry, Brave One. Don’t make me angry.”
