“No. I think it makesmenweak.”
I stand in front of her and peer down. She lifts her chin to see into my eyes. To offset the imbalance of power, she throws her shoulders back.
It doesn’t work.
“I bet,” I say, biting my bottom lip, “if I touched you right now, you’d be wet.”
Her lips twist as she scrambles for a response.
“And even though you don’t want to admit it,” I say slowly, “it’s because the idea of being dominated turns you the fuck on.”
I lay a finger against the side of her cheek. She fights her natural instinct to lean into my touch.
The pad of my finger draws a faint line down her jaw. Her chest rises and falls at a quickened pace, her pupils dilating.
“Would you be wet for me, Blaire?”
Her gaze smolders. “Depends on where you touch me.”
“I—” I begin but am interrupted by the sound of two ringing phones.
Blaire’s shoulders fall as a giggle escapes her mouth. “There have to be cameras around here. This is so unfair.”
I jerk my phone out of my back pocket. I’m not nearly as entertained by the disruption as she is.
Oliver’s name is printed across my screen. I’m ready to send him to voicemail when Blaire speaks.
“This is my nana,” she says. “I should answer it.”
I want to take her phone and throw it into the pool and make her forget it ever rang. But it’s her grandmother, so I’m sure I’d go to hell for that.
“Go ahead,” I say with as much neutrality as I can muster. “I’ll be in the den.”
She flashes me a grateful smile as I press the green button and turn on my heel.
“You are such a fucking cock block,” I tell him without saying hello.
He greets me with a full-bellied laugh. “I guess I can forgo asking how you are.”
“Fucker.”
“Nah, I don’t think you are fucking her, actually.”
I run a hand through my hair as I pass through by the foyer. “Did you call for a reason? Or just to piss me off?”
“I called for a reason. Pissing you off is just a bonus.”
“Well, shut up and get to the point. I’m about to shut this phone off for the night.”
I enter the den and stand next to the fireplace. The blanket I keep on the back of the chair that Blaire was sitting in is draped over the armrest. My immediate inclination is to pick it up and put it back where it goes. But before I touch the fabric, I pull back. I kind of like it there.
“I’m taking it Blaire is there,” Oliver says.
“If you wanna gossip, call Wade.”
He tsks me.
“Tell me why you called so I can get back to what I was doing,” I say, my gaze drifting toward the doorway.
