“Stop cursing and saying shit like that.”
She looks up at me, the defiance flickering in her mesmerizing eyes. “Or what?”
Her challenge is such a turn-on. I crack my neck, my breathing getting ragged. My palm itches to smack her ass so she’ll stop being a brat. And that is the fucking problem. I’ve wanted to do that and so much more since I took her virginity and she bled on my cock.
“Thought so,” she says and marches to the door, slamming it shut behind her, letting me know she’s pissed at me.
At least she stopped playing. I can take her anger. Something tells me she’s going to unleash it all on me. Fuck my life.
3
DAHLIA
Ihate sleep. My subconscious takes the reins, keeping me caged in a dream while he’s just on the other side—always out of reach of my forlorn heart.
He’s always there, filling my days with impossible wishes, stalking my nights with unattainable dreams. I don’t know how to make it stop. I can’t continue like this, or I will go insane. Of course he had to show up and interrupt my playing. I bet Mom told my brother, who called his best friend to watch over his little sister. I huff out a deprecating laugh. If my dear brother only knew. But he won’t. No one will ever know.
Rolling out of bed, I prepare for another day.
I miss Calla. Our shopping trips, my fighting lessons. She infuses me with the belief I can achieve anything. But that “anything” doesn’t apply to her brother.
A few days will pass before I see him again. Mika never misses a concert. The rest of the time, we only see each other when he comes to visit Enzo.
Closing the door behind me, I come to an abrupt halt when the door to my right opens, and he struts out. I blink. Surely, Iam still dreaming. He’s not here. It finally happened. I’ve gone mad.
He takes me in with those cold silver eyes—lethal to my heart like bullets.
No dream, no fantasy can wreak havoc through my insides like his presence, so I can’t be imagining him.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, tone icy.
He arches a brow, taking me in, his intense gaze boring into me. “Still mad at me, I see.”
I purse my lips to stop myself from saying it’s his fault and he could rectify it.
He cocks his head as he studies me, raking his eyes over me. They linger on the patch of skin I show. I wear a beige lace crop top and shorts that mold to my curves, and by the heated gaze, he approves by not approving.
“Like what you see?” I egg him on, the temperature rising just like the tension constantly sizzling between us. It’s a wonder I don’t combust.
The vein in his neck threatens to burst. “Watch it, Dahlia.”
I should heed the threat in his deep voice that ends with an edge attached to my name. But it only makes me burn hotter, makes me push him further until he finally cracks.
There’s no cure for my delusion.
I sway my hips as I approach him. Owning his attention is a heady feeling. I lick my lips. “Hmm, empty threats, and we both know it.”
His heated gaze causes tingles to dance on my lips.
“Yet you’re doing your best to piss me off. Did we wake up and decide to be difficult?”
Nostrils flaring, I get in his face, pushing at his chest as I look up at him. I don’t even reach his chin. The mountain of a man doesn’t even flinch. It’s like I am pounding on titanium, hoping to dent it. In vain.
He lowers his face and whispers in my ear. “Hurt me if it makes you feel better. I can and will take everything you dish out, but never fucking hurt yourself.”
His hot breath fans my sensitive skin, and I fist his shirt to support myself. Goose bumps spread, a fever I can’t contain, a fire ravaging my insides only he can tame.
Palming his muscular chest, the steady beat of his heart reminds me of my duty—of that sacred promise I made him.
