Page 21 of Coveted By Cupid

The biker moves in, but I hold my ground, going toe-to-toe with him. “I wanted to pick up where we left off.”

“So you tracked me down to my apartment like some obsessed stalker?”

“Uh, yeah? What else was I supposed to do?” he asks, frowning, like I’m the confused one. “It’s not like you gave me your address or number.”

The audacity of this man… “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Hey, you started this,” Cupid says, waving his hand between us. “I’m just following through.”

My eyes roll. “I winked at you. That’s it. You’re making it into something it’s not.”

He gives me a heated look, one that makes my skin flush like a wanton woman. “We both know it’s not nothing.”

I ignore him, doing my best to calm down my inner slut. “Whatever. I’m sure hundreds of women flirt with you daily. I’m just one of many.”

The grin on this man is enough to melt panties. “Are you jealous, Vanessa? Thinking about all those women hitting on me daily?”

I scoff, folding my arms over my chest to hold my blanket up and hating how he picked up on my dislike for anyone who has ogled him. “You wish.”

He chuckles, ducking to get right in my face. “I do. I like a territorial woman. Jealousy suits your bratty attitude.”

“I am not a brat,” I hiss, squaring my shoulders.

“You are and I like it,” he says with a cocky smile, reaching out to grab the knot I tied in the blanket near my chest. “But it ends now. Drop the attitude before I make it drip out of you.”

My mouth falls open. “Excuse me?!”

“I warned you.” Cupid yanks the blanket open, exposing my nearly naked body to his view again.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?!” I screech.

Without warning, Cupid grabs me behind my thighs and hoists me into his massive arms. I instinctively grab on to his shoulders, afraid of falling.

“That’s right. You hang on tight.”

He spins us toward my bed, unfazed when I smack his chest.

“Put me down!”

“No problem.”

He dumps me on the bed, unceremoniously. I bounce on the mattress on my back, gasping with shock. Seeing his hulk-size shape looming over me, I scramble to my knees to get off the bed, but Cupid slaps my ass when I roll to the other side to avoid him.

Spinning back around, I’m afraid of how much my body enjoyed the spank. “OW! You, asshole! You spanked me!”

“Keep it up and I’ll give you a dozen more,” Cupid warns again with a hint of humor in his sultry voice.

He crawls onto the bed like a tiger on the hunt, and I’m his prey. I scurry backward on the mattress, stopping when I hit the headboard. My eyes are fixated on him, mesmerized by the way his bulky muscles move under his clothes.

Having me right where he wants me, Cupid hovers over me. His body is so close, but not touching me. His lack of contact only heights the ache growing between my legs.

Cupid holds my stare, his chest heaving like he’s barely controlling himself, and that somehow makes me want to do wild things with this man.

“You’re at a crossroads, Vanessa. One way this plays out is you telling me to fuck off, and I’ll honor your wish. The other way is that you finally give in to me, and we both get what we want. Either path has no return, so choose wisely.”

I know what I should do. I should tell him to get the hell off me and to leave me alone. It’s the smart choice, the safe choice.

But the way this man looks at me has me feeling things I’ve never felt before, not with any of the guys I’ve crushed on, hooked up with, or dated. What I feel with Cupid is a need to be wanted, to be desired. A need to be someone’s everything, no matter how short the time together is.