Unable to stop myself, I laugh.
It’s the kind of laugh that sneaks up on you, yanking a real smile right out from under me, cracking something loose in my chest that has been stuck there for months.
And, God help me, it feelsgood.And terrifying. And addictive.
I shove a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling restless. Like I need to move or scream or dosomething.
“You’re staring again,” he says, not even bothering to open his eyes.
“Shut up.”
The quirk of his lips is slow and relaxed. “Why don’t you come over here and make me.”
My pulse skitters, right before I grab a throw pillow and whip it at his head.
He catches it midair, laughing as he tosses it aside.
“You fight dirty, kitten.”
“You have no idea,” I grumble, spinning away before I do something stupid.
Like crawl into his lap and shove my tongue in his mouth. Or gently run my fingers over his abs, before leaning in to kiss the dark bruises marring his ribs while I dry hump him till we both come in our pants.
Clearing my throat, I force some air into my lungs. “You should, uh... probably clean yourself up.”
Peeling one eye open, he grins. “You worried about me?”
“More worried about you getting bloodstains on my couch,” I retort as I move to hover above him.
His laugh is deeper this time as he stands in one smoothmove to tower over me. So close I can feel the heat radiating off his skin—again.
I stumble back a few steps and bump into the counter.
Moving in close, he dips his head and braces his hands against the marble, caging me in.
“You’re gonna have to stop looking at me like that,kitten,” he murmurs.
I swallow hard, hating how my body reacts. How my skin prickles in response to his proximity. How my pulse flutters like a frightened bird against the side of my neck.
“Like what?” I rasp.
“Like you want to run your hands all over my body.”
I lift my chin in defiance. “In your dreams.”
Tilting his head, he leans in another inch and narrows his eyes. “All. Damn. Night.”
We stare at each other, breathing the same air, hearts hammering out two chaotic, reckless beats.
And then—mercifully—he pushes off the counter and steps away, breaking the spell.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” he growls, slowly sweeping his gaze from my toes to my tits, before locking his eyes with mine. “You’re welcome to join me.”
Scandalized, my mouth drops open.
With a wink, he saunters down the hall and into the guest bedroom without another word, leaving me standing alone, vibrating with adrenaline and need.
“Arrogant, cocky, gorgeous jackass. Why couldn’t I have written you with a smaller ego?”
