I laugh, watching as she slams the door. “We just talked,” I tell her.
She rips the door open again, and I admire the way her chest is flushed, and her nipples are still erect. “You know what I mean.”
I lean up on my elbows. “I’m all ears.”
She huffs and slams the door a second time. I laugh harder and fall back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. If only I could tell her everything and make her understand why I need to keep her close.
When she returns, she grabs her dress from the floor and pulls it on. “You’re giving red flag,” she says firmly, looking me sternly in the eye.
“I am,” I say with a nod.
“That’s not a good thing,” she snaps, pushing her feet back into her heels.
Damn,those heels.
Chapter Twelve
LEONI
His stupid, smug smile pisses me off. It’s cute and relaxed. And way too tempting.
I turn my back to him and stare out of the window. It overlooks the carpark and the back of a takeaway.
I feel him approach, his arms wrapping around my waist. “I didn’t like the way he stood over you, like you belonged to him.” His voice is barely audible, like it pains him to speak the truth. I stay quiet, giving him a chance to get it off his chest. “And you looked up at him like… like you wanted him there crowding you.”
I swallow the guilt in my chest. Maybe I did want Erik there. He’s easier than Warren. Less intense.
“He’s a playboy,” I mutter. “I’d be an idiot to go there.”
He stiffens slightly. “But you’ve thought about it?”
I shrug, “Does it matter?”
He spins me to face him, backing me up against the window. “It matters,” he hisses, his nose brushing my cheek. “Am I wasting my time here?”
“No,” I whisper. Then I shake my head, breaking his spell. “You’re my boss, Warren,” I remind him.
His hand slips under my dress, his fingers brushing my entrance. I jolt against the contact, still sensitive after two mind-blowing orgasms. “You weren’t saying that when you were riding my cock.”
I break away, moving around him and rounding the bed to put distance between us. Every time he touches me, he sends me crazy with need.
“I don’t understand what’s happening between us,” I admit.
He moves towards me like a panther about to pounce. “I’ll make it clear,” he says, his voice smooth. “You’re not single anymore, Little Dove.”
As he closes the gap between us, I try to pass him. This time, his hand dashes out, catching me by the throat. It sends a thrill straight between my legs, like a jolt of lightning. He drags me closer until his mouth is to my ear. “You belong to me now.” A breathy sigh escapes me. If Court could see this now, she’d be drooling. It’s like Warren Baxter jumped right out of a romance novel, not the sweet kind, but the dirty-talking, neck-squeezing, Book Tok kind. My knees go weak, and this time when his hand slips under my dress, I don’t bother to argue. And when his fingers push into my mouth, I suck them clean like a dirty bitch. Because deep down, I want him.
All of him.
His moods. His jealousy. And his red flags.
I wake with a start, pushing to sit up, only to find the room in darkness. I reach for the lamp just as the hotel door opens and Warren enters, holding a large paper bag. He smiles wide when he sees me. “I thought you’d be hungry,” he says, closing the door and setting the bag down on the side.
I arch a brow. “You went to get us a takeout?” It’s so far from the Warren I’ve grown to know.
He opens the bag and peers inside. “I sent Anthony to get us something from my favourite restaurant.” I laugh, heading over to where he is and peering inside the bag. “Yeah, didn’t imagine you’d go and queue in a takeaway.”
“I got us a selection. I wasn’t sure what you wanted, and you looked so peaceful sleeping.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, his hand cupping my backside. “For the love of God put some clothes on before I take you straight back to bed.” He shrugs out of his shirt and hands it to me. I slip it on, leaving it open at the front as I reach into the bag and pull out some crispy rolls.
