I grab my cock under the water and squeeze, hoping the pain will somehow make the blood rush back to the head on my shoulders. “Well, for starters,” I say, my voice strangled. “You left me hanging with a raging hard on.”
“And what an impressive one it is,” she calls out from behind the bamboo screen.
“How do you know?” I scoff.
“Duh. Not only was I just sitting in your lap, but I wrote you into existence, didn’t I?”
I scrub my hands over my face and groan. “You’re killing me.”
“Thought about that, too.”
What the fuck?
“Are you messing with me?”
A snicker filters from behind the screen as I pull myself out of the water.
“Careful what you wish for, kitten.”
The rustling sounds stop abruptly.
I grab a towel, wrapping it around my waist as I stalk over to lean against the wall, close enough I can hear her labored breathing.
“Are you going to answer me?”
“About what?” she asks, her voice carrying a teasing lilt that makes my blood simmer.
“Were you seriously thinking about killing me off? Or not writing about me at all?”
Silence sits heavily in the air. Then she steps out from behind the screen fully dressed, hair damp and curling around her shoulders. The vulnerability in her eyes nearly knocks me off my feet.
“Of course not. Why the hell would I kill off one of the leading men in a series, silly? My readers would cancel me for sure.” She shrugs. “Besides, why do you care? I’m still not convinced you’re real.”
I let out a frustrated breath. “You, know. I’m starting to think you’re using the whole ‘you’re not real, just fictional’ line as a bullshit excuse to keep me at arm’s length.”
“Maybe I am,” she admits quietly.
“Why?”
“Because, in just the past couple of days, you’ve made me feel more than Eric did in our entire relationship.”
“How long were you together?”
“Seven months.”
Folding my arms across my chest, I cock my head. “That’s not very long.”
She stomps over and jabs her finger into my chest. “Don’t be a dick. It’s still longer than I’ve known you.”
Completely closing the distance between us, I back her against the cool stone wall. “Your mouth is saying one thing, but your eyes...” I trace the line of her jaw with my knuckle. “Your eyes tell me you’re scared shitless.”
Her breath hitches. “I’m not scared of you.”
“Maybe not,” I agree, leaning in until my lips brush her ear. “But you’re sure as shit scared of how I make you feel.”
She shivers and I can feel her pulse racing beneath my fingertips as I gently wrap my hand around her neck, tilt her head back, and squeeze.
“You can run all you want, kitten,” I whisper-growl. “But we both know that our story… is just getting started.”
