I know he's doing this for me, and I love him so much for it—I snap out of it.
I stop short, grabbing his arm like it's a life preserver in this sea of sexual tension. "Rhyland," I whisper, looking up into those baby blues that could make a girl forget her own name. "I... I don't want this."
Rhyland's eyes soften. "Are you sure?" he asks, probably wondering if I've been body-snatched.
"Yes," I nod, tugging him like a stubborn puppy on a leash. "Take me home, you big Viking lug."
We zoom through the city, the lights blurring like a neon fever dream, my mind racing faster than Rhyland's driving. Sure, that room probably would've been hotter than Satan's sauna, but I can't push Rhyland into something he's not comfortable with. Even if the thought of it makes my lady bits sing the cha-cha.
I know he's still itching to punish me for my little flirting stunt earlier. The way he's gripping my thigh, you'd think it was the steering wheel. His eyes are glued to the road like he's afraid it'll disappear if he looks away, and he's giving me the silent treatment.
Oh boy, I feel I'm in for one hell of a "talking to" when we get home.
Should I even consider pushing my luck with what I've got up my sleeve?
Rhyland parks the car and opens my door like the chivalrous Viking he is. As we enter the mansion, he takes my hand, clearly ready to drag me upstairs for what I'm sure will be a very... thorough discussion about proper restaurant etiquette.
"Hold your horses, Romeo," I say, my heart pounding. "I'll meet you up there. Gotta grab something first."
Rhyland gives me a look that's part suspicion, part 'what are you up to now?' It's like he can smell the mischief brewing. He drops my hand. "Okay, baby. Be quick," he says, rounding the corner and heading upstairs.
The moment he's out of sight, I bolt for the kitchen like my ass is on fire. I grab what I need—a little surprise Sable and I have been cooking up. Part of me is excited to try this on Rhyland, but another part is wondering if I should start writing my will now.
I stand there, biting my lip hard enough to leave marks, pouring two glasses of bourbon. My hands shake like I'm diffusing a bomb instead of making drinks.
Fuck it.
I'll deal with the fallout later. Now, it's time to flip the script and cash in on that bet. I won fair and square, so I'm collecting my winnings.
As I head upstairs, drinks in hand and secret weapon cleverly disguised as innocent bourbon, I can't help but grin like the cat who got the cream. Oh, Rhyland has no idea what's coming. Let's see how Mr. Alpha Viking handles being caught with his horns down for once.
I open the door carefully, trying not to spill his spiked drink. And there he is, my Nordic Adonis, staring out on the balcony like he's contemplating world domination or maybe just how he's going to punish me. His back to me, all muscle and man in that tailored suit that should be illegal in at least forty-nine states.
He looks over his shoulder, and holy hell, those baby blues are blazing hotter than a supernova. There's heat, there's hunger, and there'sdefinitelya promise of retribution for my little stunt tonight. His dark hair and neatly trimmed beard frame those chiseled features like Michelangelo himself carved them.
Holy hell. This man could make me come with just a look, and I'm already more wound up than a jack-in-the-box after hours of denied orgasms.
Alright, Dani, keep it together. You've got a plan, remember? Time to turn the tables on our resident Viking vamp. Let's see how he likes being the one left breathless and begging for once.
"Brought us a drink," I chirp, sauntering towards him like I'm not about to unleash chaos in a glass.
Rhyland smirks, taking his glass like it's not laced with vampire kryptonite. "Hmm... need to take the edge off, baby? Worried?"
I swallow the knot in my throat. Worried? Ha! I'm about as worried as a mouse in a room full of cats. But Sable and I tested this on Erik—our willing guinea pig—and it worked like a charm. Who knew vampires were so susceptible to magical roofies?
I smile, trying to look innocent. "Yeah, you know, all that edging. I need a stiff drink."
Rhyland's smirk turns predatory. "Oh, I'll give you something stiff, alright, baby, right after I turn that pretty ass of yours red for your little stunt tonight. And don't think I've forgotten about your heroic bullshit in Aquaria."
I groan, rolling my eyes. "Seriously? You're still pissy about that? It's not like I could just stand by and watch The Moron—aka Lucian—go in half-cocked to get Seraphina."
"You went in blindly, and it was not safe Dani," he growls, his alpha male showing. "We're supposed to do things together, remember? When will you get it through your pretty head that my job is to protect you from harm? You went against me."
I roll my eyes again, this time with extra sass. "Yes, oh mightyThor," I drawl. "When will you realize I don't always do as I'm told? Shocking, I know."
Rhyland moves closer, his heat wrapping around me like a blanket made of pure sex. "Oh, I'm well aware you don't do anything you're told. Not even when it means staying safe—for that, you'll learn, Angel."
I swallow hard, feeling like I just poked a sleeping dragon with a very short stick.
