Rosco’s shoulders lift and he pauses. Finally, he mutters, “Excuse me.”
Fiz’s eyebrows raise in a challenging way, and he even juts his hip, alltry me, bitchsass. “What’s the magic word?”
All my fear dribbles out from my pores and is replaced by this manic and intense need to burst out laughing. The fear Rosco strikes in me is overwhelming and paralysing, and here’s Fiz Hart showing that this man is nothing compared to him. He’s unbothered by him, daring him to take him on.
Rosco stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Please.”
It’s not just Caden who outranks most here. Seems anyone tied to him. The superiority emanates off Fiz in great dominating waves. That doesn’t make Fiz any hotter.At all.
Fiz smirks at him. Flippant and smug as fuck. For once, I don’t want to smack it off his face. “Of course, my good sir. Your mama raised a fine young gentleman.” He even goes as far as opening the door for him. He marches out. Fiz flips Rosco off as he leaves and lets the door close.
I could kiss him. Totally wrap my whole body around him and kiss him. Platonically, of course, just to thank him for being him.
But that urge dissolves just as quickly as it formed when Fiz turns those dark eyes on me. “What the fuck was just going on in here, Elodie?”
I gulp. I can’t tell him. I won’t. I don’t need that bullshit to come to the surface again after spending weeks shoving it so far down. I don’t need to confirm their suspicions of me being a whore. “Nothing, he must have just got the toilets mixed up.”
Fiz crosses his arms again. “Really, bitch?”
I nod, mirroring his challenging stance. “Really, bitch.” I go to walk towards the door, but he blocks my way, so I roll my eyes. “I’m not saying the magic word.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Elodie, do I need to tell Caden about this?”
There’s so much accusation lacing that question. Does Caden need to be aware of Rosco because we’re fucking, we’re friends, he’s a threat – which one will it be?
I drop my attitude. “Please, don’t tell him, Fiz. There’s no need.”
He bites his lip. “I suppose I can keep a secret for you. But it’ll cost you.” His smirk’s back and yep, I’m back to wanting to smack it straight off.
“Of course it fucking will. If it’s anything sexual, you can just go tell Caden right now. I’m not going near you.”
Fiz keeps that intense gaze locked on mine, threatening to buckle my knees. “Are you not just a little curious?”
“No.” I fear my body language might be betraying me.
“You haven’t thought about giving me a chance, Sleeping Beauty?” He’s suddenly very close to me.
I’m thrown back to all the chances he hasn’t taken for himself. Sure, he’s taken some, but not all. And it worries me.
“Why haven’t you come to Caden’s room again?” I ask tentatively. “Why have you left me alone?”
His eyebrows dart up. “I can happily amend that, if you wish to have my company.”
“No – no, I just…” I try to sort through my scattered thoughts. Find the right words that he won’t take as an invitation. “You’re so threatening and handsy, yet you don’t jump at every opportunity. I don’t think it’s because you’ve found respect for me.”
He lifts a hand, runs the back of a finger down my cheek. Goosebumps rise all over me. “Because, baby,” he whispers in that velvet smooth voice, “you feel that anxiety when you hear footsteps outside the door, the phantom pain when you think of my teeth on your clit?” His dark eyes fix onto mine, setting my blood on fire. “How on edge you are when we’re in the same room? That’s what I feed off. What I live for.” His hand reachesup and pushes back some hair from my face, his eyes now following his movement. “I’ve embedded myself into your brain. You asking me ‘why not’ is proof of that.” He looks back down at me. “I’m in your head and I’m going to stay there. That’s all I need – for now. And when the time is right, Sleeping Beauty, I’ll make those dreams come true. You’ll beg me for it.”
I almost choke. From the disbelief, from the ambivalence, from the utter audacity this man has.
“Bold of you to assume I think about you so much,” I manage, my voice thick.
“Do you not?” He cocks a brow, dropping his hand down and nestling it in the crook of my neck, thumb brushing my jaw. “I sure think about you a lot.”
I bite my lip, trying to catch a coherent thought while this insufferable guy scrambles my brain with his hotness and silky voice and quivering touches.
Then, his thumb comes up and tugs my lip free of my teeth, and I almost crumble right then and there. “You think about me?” he asks again, eyes burning into mine with an intensity I could just dissolve from.
I’m pretty sure I have no breath in my lungs. “Not at all. You’re vulgar.”
