Brody smirks again. I wish I could rip those lips right off his face.
He turns around to face the door. I blink at his back before I realize he means this is the “privacy” he’s allowing me.
He wants to be funny? Fine.
I’ve got the perfect joke for him.
My drive toward psychological warfare didn’t work at the hotel, but I’m nothing if not persistent, and desperate times…
Ignoring my screaming bladder through sheer spite, I press my pelvis against his ass, the same way he did to me in that closet. The muscles in his back and arms twitch and flex as I arch my torso against his tightly coiled body.
A morbid thrill zips through me. Let’s see how he likes getting a taste of his own medicine.
“Please, Brody?” I make my voice kitten-soft and settle my hands on his thick waist. “I’m going to need abitmore privacy than this.”
I hear and feel his thick swallow and the way his shoulders pinch with effort.
Good.
Men are so easy.
“You only get five minutes.” His voice comes out as a dark rasp. “And you’ve already wasted two of them?—”
I cut him off by dropping my hand to the front of his pants.
It’s half-intentional, half-gravity when my fingers connect with his shaft.
Good lord.
There’s a lot more of him than I expected.
I fondle him silently, my fingers delicate and light as they trace the outline of his member through his jeans and trail toward his hip. His breathing picks up, the echo of air in his lungs loud against my ear.
I press between his shoulders, exhaling against his jacket. Beneath the sweat and blood, he has an earthy, woodsy scent that smells far too enticing.
Somewhere in my distant mind, a wild girl who never broke free in college wants to rip his clothes off and shove him up against this disgusting bathroom wall.
The rational part of me knows I’ve got more urgent issues to address.
Bracing myself for what comes next, I rip the phone from his pocket and step back. He whips around to face me, his eyes bright and his face ruddy.
Before he can rage at me, I throw his phone like a football, tossing it over his shoulder and into the dark underbrush a few feet away.
He reacts without thinking, spinning around to retrieve the device.
By the time Brody realizes what I’ve done, I’ve closed and locked the bathroom door.
He thumps his fist against the metal, shaking the entire room. “Trinity!”
“Be a good boy and fetch.” I hurry to the toilet, my body tingling from the strain of holding things in.
Whew.
As I finally relax, a thin layer of satisfaction settles over my skin.
The nerve of that bastard…Expecting me to pee under his supervision. He can bite me.
Maybe he will.
