WHEN GRAYSON REACHED MAILAH, HE DIDN'T STOP. Didn't give her space to think or argue. His hand found her jaw, tilting her face up to his, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"What I'm not telling you," he said, his voice dangerously quiet, "is none of your concern."
"Everything about this situation is my concern—"
He kissed her. Hard. Cutting off whatever argument was forming.
When he pulled back, her eyes were blazing. "You can't just—"
He kissed her again. Longer this time. His other hand finding her waist, pulling her against him with enough force that she had to grab his shoulders for balance.
"I can," he said against her mouth. "And I will. Every time you push for information that will only make you reckless."
"That's not—"
His mouth covered hers again, swallowing the protest. This time when he released her, she looked dazed, her fingers still gripping his shoulders.
"You're impossible," she breathed.
