“Give. Me. My phone!” I growl, right before it drops with a clunk to the floor.
“Only if you say please,” he growls back, leaning in close, eyes bright with challenge.
“God! You’ve got to be the biggest asshole I’ve ever written.”
Grinning the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen, he spreads his arms wide. “Your doing, not mine.”
Snatching the phone off the floor, I scramble back across the tile like I’ve seen the devil himself, and put it back to my ear.
Sasha is laughing so hard I can barely understand her. “Itoldyou the steam in your books was gonna bite you in the ass one of these days,” she gasps. “You better call your editor. Tell her you manifested a shirtless, sex fueled menace with perfect pecs and no off switch whatsoever.”
This bitch.
“I hate you so much right now.”
“And I love this for you.Bye-eee.”
After she hangs up on me, I drop the phone onto the counter.
When I turn around, Ryder’s gaze is zeroed in on me like I’m some kind of crazy puzzle he can’t figure out.
“What?” I snap.
Keeping my arms crossed, I do my best to keep my robe from falling open again. For some reason, every inanimate object I own is doing its best to betray me this morning. “Are you waiting for a standing ovation? Maybe a ‘World’s Sexiest Hallucination’ trophy?”
His eyes go from soft gray to full on storm before he pushes off the counter with lazy grace. With the easy confidence of a cat stalking its prey, he starts walking toward me.
My pulse picks up, skin tingling with heat under his steely gaze. I back up, heart thudding against my ribs, until the smooth kitchen wall meets my spine, halting any further retreat.
Stopping just a breath away, Ryder’s dark and stormy eyes trace every inch of my face. My lips, my throat—the spot where I know my robe is gaping open—again. I can almost feel it, like a fingertip sliding across my skin.
I can’t move. Can’t breathe.
My skin flushes and nerves dance in my veins as my entire body tightens in anticipation, waiting for him to pounce.
He leans in, brushing his lips along the shell of my ear, making me shiver so hard, I want to scream. Or come. Coming would be nice.
Shut. Up. Noia.
His voice is a low growl as he whispers, “You should really go take a shower.”
I blink and my heart drops.
“What?”
“Your hair is a rat’s nest, and you smell like booze and desperation.”
I gape at him, and he gives me a smarmy grin.
Shoving him in the chest, I stomp past him before I turn and flip him off. “You’re such dick, Ryder Blackwood!”
“Correction,” he calls after me. “I’myourdick.”
Turning on my heel, I run upstairs to my bathroom, slam the door and turn the shower on full blast.
The water is a little too hot, but I don’t care. I stand under the spray in an attempt to boil the memory of his smug face out of my brain.
“Yeah, well. You smell like a dark forest and every bad decision I’ve ever made,” I mutter-whine to myself, scrubbing shampoo into my scalp with way too much force. “And you’re acting like you own the place. Which you don’t. Because this ismyhouse. My life.My story.”
