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A roar of lust bounded through my veins, pounding in my ears and thundering through my body.
Holy crap was I ever playing with fire. But I couldn’t stop. My fingers flew across the screen, incited by this need that boiled and blistered.
Me
Ahh…so you would eat me. I bet you want to see my boobs, too.
I let the tease weave into it, trying to maintain the lie that this didn’t matter. That his confession hadn’t scored me with desire. That I wasn’t sitting on this bed writhing, burning with lust.
I nearly hit the ceiling when my phone suddenly rang with a video call, Caleb’s number lighting on the screen. My hands were trembling like crazy when I answered it, and in a moment, I was staring at the harsh, striking angles of his face.
The man was hewn in severity, a barely controlled fire that threatened to spiral into tragedy.
And he told me that I was chaos.
“Are you trying to drive me to madness, Ms. Dae?” His jaw was clenched, the words a low threat.
I lifted my chin. “Would you meet me there, Mr. Greyson?”
The man growled. It sent a rash of shivers skating across my skin. I had no idea why I wanted this guy so much, but the thought of having him had embedded itself deep.
This curiosity. The attraction. The strange connection I didn’t quite get.
“Is Evelyn asleep?” The man always made a question sound like a demand.
“Yes.”
“Shut your door and lock it,” he ground out, his breaths shallow and hard.
I wasn’t just looking for trouble. I’d found it. Jumped right in because I was hopping off the side of the bed and padding barefoot across the room like I was on a secret mission, my heart jackhammering in my chest while I snapped the door the rest of the way shut.
The click of the lock turning rang through the room.
Sealing my fate.
And I was getting all gaspy and short of breath as I edged back toward the bed, wondering what I’d gotten myself into. How it’d gone from some harmless texts to this man staring me down through the screen. In the dim light of whatever extravagant room he was in, those icy eyes burned blue fire, and I was slowing beneath the severity of them, waiting for his next instruction.
Nothing but a silly sheep waiting to be slain.
But death by whatever wicked pleasure he was about to bring seemed like an okay plan right about then.
“Is this a line you want to cross?”
“If it’s with you, I do.” Vulnerability seeped into my tone, though I lifted my chin in challenge, sure I wanted to test these waters. Explore the way he made me feel.
“Let me see you,” he rumbled, and my tongue stroked over my dried lips, palpitations pounding my heaving chest.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
His chuckle could only be construed as menacing. “Don’t get shy on me now, Ms. Dae. You know exactly what you were asking for. Hang up right now if you don’t want it.”
Standing at the side of the bed, I lifted my phone up high, my head tipped back, angling the camera to give him a good show of my cleavage that more than peeked out of the top of my tank. “Is this what you wanted to see?”
“Take off your underwear.”
Um, what?
Well, okay, I guessed I’d totally heard him because I was already complying, a fool who raced toward destruction because clearly this man held the power to annihilate me.
I kept the phone held high, peeking at him every couple seconds, while my free hand skimmed down my front until I found the hem of the sleep shorts. I slipped my fingers under them, catching my panties as I went. I wiggled out of them, pushing them down until they slipped the rest of the way to the ground.
I stepped out of both.
A hard breath panted from his mouth. “Good girl. On the bed.”
Cool air hit my heated center, and chills were racing far and wide, clashing with the fire that was going to burn me up. I climbed back onto the bed, a riot going off in the middle of me.
“You’re turn,” I told him, trying to sound like I was the one in control.
Hardly.
Because he rumbled, “Already done.”
He pulled his phone away so I could see more than his face. “I was already thinking about you.”
His image was dulled by the muted light, but the subdued shadows outlining him still ripped the breath from my lungs.
He lay on a bed, surrounded by silky linens, his light skin in stark contrast against the black sheets.
His chest was bare, packed with that lean, corded muscle that made him look like a viper, coiled and ready to strike. His body written in a severity that howled of danger. Just like I knew he was, something wicked beneath that suit that he tried to keep contained. His rippling flesh was covered in tattoos, and I tried to take them all in, to categorize this paradox of a man and peer into the mystery he kept so powerfully hidden away.
