My eyes go wide. “You fucking didn’t.”
He doesn’t move.
“Oh, you fuckingdid.” I gasp, half-laughing. Then smile nice and slow. “You devious fucking dog.”
He runs a hand through his hair, light and dark strands mussing together, then glances back at his phone, adjusts his glasses, trying to play all coy and innocent.
“It’s not like that,” he mumbles.
Oh, hell no. Fucker isn’t getting away with it that easily.
“You torestripsoff me and Julien. And little did we know, you were touching much more than a wall you—”
“I didn’t touch her.” His voice rumbles through mine, almost a snarl.
Oh man, that just makes me grin wider.
He breathes deep, then pockets his phone. “I just… talked her through it... over the phone.”
“Fuck. Ing. Hellllll.” I throw my head back, staring up at the ceiling as I picture it all. Every tiny detail.
The sounds. The moans. The heat.
“I went into her mind,” he murmurs.
I drop my head, delivering a full-on Kane glare. “Zeek…”
“I made her see the three of you.”
My glare dissolves. I swallow.“And?”
He shakes his head, a slow, smug smirk—my smirk—spreading across his face. “That… finished the conversation.”
“Fuck.” I lick my lips.
“And the way she reacted to my words…” he trails off, eyes unfocused as he relives it.
I stare back up at the ceiling, gritting my teeth. “Fucking stop it, man.”
“She told me to keep our conversation between us.”
I face him again. “Well, I heard it loud and fucking clear. And if I did… Shit.”
He swallows. “Has Julien said anything?”
“No, but maybe he didn’t realise. Kane?”
He shakes his head. “Fuck. I’ll have to tell her.”
I grimace, glad it’s his dilemma and not mine. “Well, good luck with that, mate. I’m sure she’ll be calm and reasonable.”
He bites his tongue, most likely holding back an insult. But he’s only got himself to blame. If he can’t handle the fire, he needs to back off and let me. I’ll burn alive just to hear more of those sounds.
“Y’know…” I lower my voice into something conspiratorial. “Seeing as I already heard the trailer, you might as well let me have the full film—”
“Fuck off.” He doesn’t even look at me, just grabs the wad of paper on his desk and starts riffling through it.
I sigh. “Can’t blame me for trying.” Then mutter, “Killjoy.”
