“Wearing that?”
“What?” I ask innocently. “You don’t like my dress?”
His gaze moves up and down my body, lingering on the hem when I tug to pull it past my ass. His lips thin, and he rakes his fingers through his hair, glances away.
“Pretty sure there isn’t enough material for that to be considered a dress.” He lets out a breath and swings his eyes back to mine. “Anyway, it’s like forty-five degrees out.”
“Worried I’ll freeze?”
His jaw tenses, and I revel in the delicious pull his attention evokes before I spin on my heel, stroll past him and into my room. I return to the hallway, wearing a see-through shrug.
I pause inches from him, and his body heat warms me from my neck to my bare thighs. My heels bring me close to his height, to his mouth.
I bat my lashes. “Satisfied?”
His eyes drop to my mouth, and for a moment, he just stares. My lips part slowly, so slowly, while my heart slams against my chest.
“No,” he finally says. He shrugs out of his hoodie and offers it to me.
I stare blankly at the sweatshirt in his hand.
“Put it on, Eva. Please.”
“It’s funny,” I breathe, dragging my gaze back to his.
“What?”
“You can’t ignore me now. Can you?” My thoughts spill from my tongue, honest and unfiltered.
The words taint the air between us, sinking into the walls like toxic.
His brows slant. “You wore this because of me? To get myattention?”
I lift a shoulder. “It worked, didn’t it? You can hardly look away.”
“You honestly think that’s because of your clothes?”
The indifferent fa?ade drops, and my breath comes out too fast.
I watch him, the messy hair falling into his eyes, the knuckles whitening around the hoodie.
“Even when I try to ignore you—and believe me, I fucking try—Ican’t. You could dress like a nun, and I’d still stare at you all damn day. Don’t you know that by now?” He releases an exhale rough with frustration. “Eva. You had another guy in my room after spending the night with me. Do you have any idea what it was like for me to watch him touch you?Holdyou?”
“Easton,” I whisper. The sting returns to my eyes, only a thousand times worse. “I told you. It’s not what it looked like. I didn’t think—”
“What it’s like to know that while you fuckingownme, you can still be with someone else?”
“No.” I shake my head, shut my eyes. “Stop. That’s not true.”
He cups my chin, and the gentle contact burns so sharply I almost flinch. When I still don’t look at him, he brushes my lower lip with his thumb, sending a shiver through me, and I can’t help it—my eyes flutter open to find his gaze drilling into mine.
Intense, dark, and aching.
My lips part, my tongue darts out to dampen them, and I taste his thumb before he quickly drops it.
A groan catches in his throat, rasping his voice. “But for some twisted, masochistic reason, Istilljust fucking want—”
My eyes drop to his mouth, which is now dangerously close to mine, making my entire body starve with the need to really taste him.
