A strange jealousy burns through my veins.
It must be the damn link connecting us, making me protective. It’s gotta be the spell she put on me.
Because here she is stripping her dress off right in the middle of the penthouse hallway, right in front of Blondie. He watchesher with obvious interest, head tilting to follow her every move as she ducks out of the dress and slings it easily over one arm.
Well,holy damn.
I knew she had curves, but that little, golden triangle of fabric is hugging the shape of her ass so well, I can’t rip my gaze away.
And I swear she knows it. I swear she’s doing this on purpose. She catches my eye as her head turns, and I swear for a split-second I see the hint of a triumphant smile.
Well, damn.
Did shewantme to react like this? Because that only feeds my fantasy. The one where she’s—
“Which way to the pool?” She asks Blondie, and the fantasy comes crashing down.
Right.
She’s not wearing that hot little thing for me.
No.
And Blondie sure as hell ain’t looking at her face.
He’s staring down at the metallic gold triangles covering her chest. Or, more likely, he’s staring at what’sunderthe damn little triangles that don’t do muchcoveringat all.
Don’t get me wrong.
She looks hot in it.
I love it.
But something about the way he’s looking at her so hungrily makes the jealousy burn hotter under my skin.
I step between them, folding my arms and blocking his view with my body.
“Hey,” I bark, deciding I’ll roll into this whole bodyguard thing. Gesturing above the shoulders, I say, “Eyes up here if you want to keep ‘em.”
Blondie just blinks, taking a step back like my threat caught him off-guard, and now he’s trying to decide if I’m being serious.
If he owns this place, he probably has a whole security detail of his own. Maybe he’s thinking about calling them and escorting me off the premises.
Which would be fine by me. We’d be back in her apartment sooner, all alone while she wears that skimpy little…
Beside me, June laughs.
Actually laughs.
“It’s okay,Z,” she says, grabbing my bicep. “He’s not doing any harm.”
Hang on. Does shewantthis creepy rich guy to look at her?
I glare harder at him.
Fine.
If she wants to get ogled by creepy rich boys, that’s her choice.
