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Dark eyes dip and sure enough, his train of thought follows mine.
Adrenaline attacks my system, not because I’m afraid of what that dark look of his means, but of what I might do if he really does want to test out the durability of my lipstick.
Focus, Nyx!
“I’m here to clean. It’s Friday and your penthouse is on the schedule for cleaning. I didn’t mean to barge in, but in my defense, you were groaning and I thought you might be hurt.” What a load of lies. I see zero evidence of him buying it, but that doesn’t keep a smile from trying to make its appearance on my face again. At this point, I don’t know why I keep up the charade. He’s got me. I don’t belong here, and we both know it.
He taps the end of my nose earning him a growl of resistance. He looms over me and brushes a thumb down the side of my face. “Your mother must not have taught you that little girls don’t come into a grown man’s room, pussy cat.”
I find myself growing irritated at his tone. “Don’t call me that.” The last thing I am is some plaything. I could deliver a hard knee to the balls and that would get the blade away from my throat long enough for me to dive for the door. But the dare on his face says he’s expecting me to make a move.
“Pussy cat,” he taunts in a low voice that sounds like water moving over crushed glass. Cold, jagged, and dangerous.
“I mean it, mafia man. I’m no one’s toy.”
An aura of power emits from him. I always thought a man was made by his clothes, but that’s anything but true today. Coiled anger sits just below the surface for this man. One wrong move and the irritation bulging all those muscles could spell my demise. I’m not fool enough to think just because I have a cute face and sweet ass this man won’t kill me.
Kissable lips peel back in a saccharine smile I’m not about to accept at face value.
“Are you gonna let me go so I can finish my work? It’s almost time to clock out and I still have a shower to clean, it seems?”
I know it’s not wise to lie to a man three times my size, but what if he’s naked and just had what sounded like my name on his lips while he was working it in the shower?
I couldn’t tell for sure. His voice was more of a growl than actual vowels and consonants. I probably heard wrong. Besides, how would he know my name? My brother makes it a point to keep me out of his work life to the point I feel like I don’t exist at times.
But what now? There is no book on how to handle this, right? Or did I miss something?
His eyes narrow and I go still against the wall. I clear my throat which is suddenly drier than sand in the middle of the Sahara and tap the end of the blade at my throat. It doesn’t seem like he’s getting the hint that it hurts.
“Are you going to hurt me?” I croak out a few more garbled words. As it turns out it’s kinda hard to talk when a tatted-up, angry behemoth of a man flattens you against a wall. My eyes start to drift to certain parts of his anatomy before snapping back to his. Or at least parts of him seem hard and angry. The other parts look really happy to see me. He might have enjoyed his shower only moments ago, but he doesn’t look anywhere near being done.
Eyes so black they look forged from onyx bore into mine.
No answer.
“Can you remove the knife, please? This seems a bit much. Unless a five-foot-two-inch woman makes you feel threatened.”
He arches a brow and all the faux sweetness on his face fades into a humorless smile. It’s late evening and nearly the end of November so the only light comes from two lamps at either end of the large bed at his back and the bathroom. Shadows slice through his revolving expressions.
Ryth’s fingers trace over my skin, that stupid blade of his still lodged against my throat like I’m going to grow fangs and claws any second.
“You know my name.”
“Everyone with access to the internet does. Now let me go. I have work to do.”
“Liars should be punished, don’t you think, pussy cat?”
No. No, I don’t. Not when they are me.
“Asshole,” I grit out and mean it.
I inhale sharply when his lips nearly take mine. “Such a filthy mouth.”
The blade sinks deeper into the flesh until I feel I’m either going to pass out or lose my head. Neither of which sounds like a good way to spend the weekend.
His eyes fall on my quivering breasts. “I wonder if the rest of you is just as naughty?”
Because if nothing else, I am a really great bullshitter, I rock a bit of a smirk despite my knees practically knocking. I make sure not to take my eyes off his when he moves over me. If I do, I might see the one thing I can’t resist and that is his hard dick currently pressing into my abdomen.
