“All’s fair in love and fake engagements.” She smirked, her gaze dropping to my crotch like she was cataloging exactly what her little show was doing to me.
“Do you really think it’s wise to parade around my penthouse, dressed like that?”
“Like what?” The picture of innocence, if innocence wore lingerie and had a PhD in driving men insane.
“It’s like holding a glass of water in front of a man dying of thirst.”
Her eyebrows shot up, lips forming a perfect O of mock surprise. But I knew exactly what she was doing with that mouth. Knew exactly what would fit in that O.
“Are you saying you find me attractive, Axel Pierce?”
More than any woman who’s ever existed.
“Put some goddamn clothes on,” I said.
Or don’t. God help me, please don’t.
My phone buzzed. A welcome distraction from the Dakota Blackwood torture chamber my living room had become. I could barely focus on the screen, too mesmerized by the way she was now stretching like a cat in the sun.
Luckily—or unluckily, depending on how you looked at it—the message was like a bucket of ice water.
Ryker: We have a serious problem. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.
Shit.
I looked up to find Dakota watching me, her expression shifting from playful to concerned.
“What is it?” she asked, all traces of seduction gone from her voice.
“Ryker said we have a problem.”
“We, as in the fake engagement? Or we, as in you and your buddy?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But if he’s on his way at this hour, whatever it is must be bad.”
16
PLOT TWIST: TURNS OUT, THERE ARE WORSE THINGS THAN FAKE DATING YOUR ENEMY. LIKE REAL DYING BECAUSE OF YOUR ENEMY. #PERSPECTIVE
DAKOTA
“Get changed before Ryker gets here,” Axel barked, his voice rough as gravel.
“Sure thing.” I bent down slowly and was rewarded with his sharp intake of breath. “Just need to finish my cooldown stretches.”
Victory tastes so sweet.
“Dakota. Get. Up.”
“Hold on.” I rose inch by torturous inch, rolling my spine vertebra by vertebra. “You know what they say about proper form.”
When I glanced over my shoulder, I caught him staring at my ass with an expression that looked like pure torture. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and I could see the exact moment he realized I’d caught him looking. The flush that crept up his neck was absolutely delicious.
The man looked like he was about to stroke out.
But then Axel did something I didn’t expect. He stormed across the room in three long strides, closing the distance between us until my brain went fuzzy.
He towered over me, all six foot two of furious male, looking down like his eyes were blazing a path of possession across my barely covered skin. I’d expected his anger. Hell, I’d counted on it. I’d even expected the impressive bulge straining against his dress pants. What I didn’t expect was how prominent it was or how the sight of it sent unwelcome fire engulfing the space between my thighs.
