I’m at war with myself. Part of me wants to collapse into his arms and beg him to take me. The quiet, fearful part of me wants to run, to avoid this confrontation, to avoid more rejection. And another part of me is so fucking confused by his attention.
“He said I should ask you about something.” He lifts his gaze to mine and I’m lost.
“What should you ask me?” I breathe, so far gone that I almost sway into his heat, let it consume me. He’s still only touching my hair. But his full focus is on me and it’s intoxicating.
“What have you been up to, trouble?”
Suddenly I’m captured in his gaze unable to look anywhere else.
Trouble?
“What do you mean?” I search his eyes, trying to figure out what is happening right now. He’s so close. Awareness of his heat sends my body into overload.
“You’re dating Drew.” He looks at the strand of hair between his fingers.
That wasn’t really a question. “Yes.”
His eyes flare with heat. “And Dante?”
My cheeks burn. “I’m not dating Dante.”
“Then why did you give him a show, trouble?”
When I masturbated for the camera, I thought Dante was watching and Wyatt must have figured that out. Anger floods through me. Fuck him and fuck this.
“What do you want, Wyatt? Do you want me to confess all my dirty little secrets to you so you can tell my big brother when he gets home?” I narrow my eyes.
The heat pouring off him sizzles through me. “You’re playing with fire, trouble.”
Don’t I know it. I’m burning from the inside out.
“That’s my choice. If I want to fuck every man I meet, that’s my choice. My brother doesn’t control me. You don’t control me.” Fuck, it feels freeing to say that.
He closes in on me and I back away. The only one that could truly burn me is Wyatt. I’m already singed from him. My back hits the wall and he puts his hands on either side of my head.
His breath fans my lips and a little gasp escapes me. Every inch of my body longs for the heat of his. The anticipation of his touch is killing me, but I know he won’t. I don’t know why, but Wyatt doesn’t touch me.
“Is that what you want, trouble? Someone to control you? Someone to put you in your place when you’re being a brat?” Wyatt rubs his nose against mine.
My breath rushes out of me as awareness floods me. Do I want that?
Barking fills the silence between us and then a growl. Wyatt yelps.
“Fucking terror.” Wyatt steps back and shakes his leg to free himself of the little white furball.
“Peabody!” I squat down and hold open my arms for him, and he rushes to me, proud of himself for biting Wyatt. I glance up at Wyatt and he runs a hand through his hair. My breathing and heart race.
Finn pops into the doorway and his wide green eyes bounce from me to Wyatt. “Hey, sorry. He’s a little beast when he wants to tear into Wyatt.”
I scoop Peabody up and shoulder past Wyatt into the living room. His scent is too intoxicating in there. I hand Finn Peabody and then turn to face Wyatt.
“Sit.” I point to the couch and Wyatt arches his dark eyebrow. “I need to look at your leg.”
He walks around the couch and sits. Finn brushes my arm. His eyes search mine.
“You okay, flower?”
I draw in a deep breath and nod. Some of my control returns as I walk around the couch and sit on the ottoman to face Wyatt.
