Chapter 17

Tristan deliberately kept teasing Genevieve, refusing to give her what she wanted. He caught her earlobe between his teeth, his voice low against her skin. "Beg me." Genevieve hooked an arm around his neck and pushed herself hard against him. "Be good, and listen. Give it to me." ... By the next morning, Genevieve woke with soreness still lingering in her body. It felt like she had been taken apart and put back together, every inch of her still echoing with the night before. She forced her eyes open, her focus sharpening little by little, until a sharply defined, handsome sleeping face came into view. Tristan? Tristan Hale! Her mind blanked for a split second. She turned her head, and her gaze swept across the floor, where clothes were scattered everywhere. That shredded red dress was the most blinding thing of all. Fragmented memories came rushing back to her all at once. She realized that she had been the one who had started everything. She was done for. It was the only