His professional façade crumbles as he sends me an appreciative grin. The doors close, and then it’s just the three of us. Michael nudges me in the back and leans forward so his mouth is close to my ear. “Are you misbehaving, Dr. Sloane?”

I can’t help it. I laugh. Zeth gives Michael a warning glance. “Better not be fucking hitting on my girl.” He cocks an eyebrow at his friend, and his demeanor is all fight, though I can tell he’s only joking.

Joking and Zeth Mayfair. I’d never have thought the two would go together, but I’ve learned of late that the man I call mine is actually a very funny soul. He just hides it really, really well. Michael straightens his tie, glancing up at the display—twelve, thirteen, fourteen—and says, “Me? I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

The elevator car glides to a halt at the sixteenth floor—the top floor, of course—and we find ourselves in an empty corridor. There are only two doors up here. The door on the left is marked A; the door on the right, marked B. Michael bites back a grin again, and Zeth throws a bag at him. I don’t know how I missed it before, but it’s a black duffel. My heart starts thumping in my chest at the sight of it. I never thought I’d admit to anything of the sort, but I’ve missed that bag. I have no idea why Zeth is throwing it at Michael. Or at least I don’t until Zeth growls, “Don’t say a fucking word. I mean it.”

I have a medical degree. I have a science degree, too. I’m a pretty smart person. It’s obvious there’s something entertaining about being here, in this hallway, standing between these two doors. Michael picks up Zeth’s duffel and shoves it into his chest. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours, I assume.” He doesn’t wait for an answer. He pulls a key card out of his own pocket and turns to the door labeled with a B. He opens it up and vanishes inside, leaving Zeth and me with door A.

“Let me guess,” I say. “This is normally a choose-your-own-adventure moment, huh? Pick the door on the left and get one thing, pick the door on the right for another?”

Zeth shoots me a surprised look. I am loving the slow, glacial melt that’s taking place within him. He’s a fool if he thinks he’s hidden it from me. And the fact he’s letting himself go around me more and more these days means I get to witness an entirely new range of emotions on his face. Surprise is a cute one. He looks kind of innocent with those big brown eyes of his growing wider, though the words that come out of his mouth next are far from it.

“You’re too smart for your own good, angry girl. Now you know our little secret, you’re going to have to be punished.”

My toes curl inside my shoes. He’s joking again. I think he’s joking. He opens the door, slings his duffel inside, along with our two other bags, and then turns to face me in the corridor. He pulls his hood up and begins to pace toward me. “When people come up here, Sloane, one of them always gives the other an option.”

Oh, shit.

With his face drawn into shadow in that hood…

With that dark, predatory look in his eyes…

With the way he prowls toward me like he’s hungry. So hungry…

My body comes alive.

“They might take the person by the hand,” Zeth rumbles, deep in his chest. He takes hold of my hand. “And they might press that person up against the wall.” I’m already walking backward, my breath fighting in and out of my lungs in short, heady bursts. My back hits the wall, and Zeth’s powerful body leans up against mine, trapping me. “And they might get up nice and close…”

He’s about as close as he can get. His mouth is less than an inch from mine. I want…no I need him to kiss me. I need it so bad. Zeth licks his lips, and it’s not a teasing motion. I can see it in his eyes—he wants to kiss me, too.

“Fuck, Zeth.” I mouth the words. I have no breath to spare for sound. Zeth smiles a little. The intense way he’s studying me—his eyes traveling from my own to my mouth, to my neck and back again—gives me the impression he’s fascinated by what he’s seeing. If that’s the case, then it makes two of us.

“And that person might say to the other person,” he whispers, “pick your poison, angry girl.” His tongue flicks out and licks at my top lip, sending a chorus of vibrations humming through my body. My nipples are so hard, they’ve started to ache. God, this is so messed up. I have to have him.

“What—what might a person’s options be?” I’m barely in control anymore. My hands are sweating, desperate to take hold of him. Zeth stares me down for one long second, and then he carefully lowers his mouth, barely touching his full lips to mine.

“Pleasure,” he whispers. There’s a ball of heat twisting into a burning knot in my stomach. That heats explodes into an inferno, burning up inside me when he takes my lip in between his teeth and tugs, hard. The surprise of the sensation makes me gasp. “Or…pain,” Zeth tells me.

My head is spinning. From the need in Zeth’s eyes, I know this isn’t a game. This isn’t a theoretic conversation. I am meant to choose now, and I know which option Zeth wants me to pick. For once, there’s not a shadow of doubt in my mind. I want what he wants.

“Pain, Zeth. I want the pain.”

Zeth growls low in the back of his throat. There’s no way he’s holding himself back. Adrenalin zips through me as he crashes his body into mine, hands reaching under my thighs and hoisting me off the ground. I wrap myself around him—arms, legs. My heart. I wrap my heart around him as I cling on for dear life. He kisses me, his lips finding mine, and I don’t need to breathe anymore. His mouth on mine is all I need. His hands holding me tight is all I need. Just him. He is everything.