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“I would have thought I had made my intentions quite clear,” he retorts, running the back of his knuckles over my cheek.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I rebuke, turning my face to the side, grateful for the cool brick kissing my other cheek.
“Don’t act coy, kitten. You know what I want,” he rasps, running his nose up the side of my neck until his lips reach my earlobe to whisper, “You.”
“Well, I’m busy.”
“Are you, now?” he teases, grazing his teeth on my earlobe before giving it a good bite.
I squirm at the way his hands grab my hips, forcing me to stay still while he starts nibbling on my neck.
“Trent—”
“Yes, kitten?” He grins, hiding his head on the crook of my neck, kissing and licking his way down.
“I don’t have time for this,” I stammer, my chest heaving up and down when he begins to unbutton my blouse.
“Oh? Then I guess I’ll have to make this quick,” he threatens
“Trent,” I pant when his hands move away from my now-open blouse and start running up my outer thighs, pulling my pencil skirt as high as he can get it.
“How attached are you to this skirt?”
“Don’t you dare,” I growl, staring him in the eye so he can see I mean business. “You already owe me a dress.”
“Yes. I do. And what a lovely dress it was. It looked fantastic on my bedroom floor,” he taunts while wrapping his hand around my throat. “I was very disappointed to see that you left such a treasured memento but didn’t stick around to be properly thanked for it. Maybe I should thank you now?”
“Maybe you should take a small walk over the Bill Buckner Bridge instead?”
“Now, kitten. I didn’t say you could let your claws out yet.” He chuckles, the sound of his nefarious laugh in my ear making my toes curl.
There is seriously something very wrong with me if this man can turn me on just with his sadistic laughter.
“Now, are you going to let me properly thank you, or would you like to return to yourdateinstead?”
Date?
“Are you talking about Laurie?” I purr Laurie’s name just to provoke him further.
“You know I am.” His nostrils flare while he tightens his hold on my throat, but not enough to hurt me in any way.
“Are you jealous?”
“Why would I be jealous,” he rebukes. “You’re mine, remember?”
This clears the lust-filled fog from my eyes.
“I don’t belong to you, Nichols. I’m not a thing you can own. You can’t claim me just because you want to. That’s not how this works.”
He takes a step back, his hand falling from my neck, and I hate how my heart dips in my chest, missing his touch already.
“It’s Trent, Piper,” he repeats assertively. “The same name you call out every night when you’re fantasizing about me being inside you.”
“God, you’re a pretentious bastard.”
“Oh, and your new boy toy, isn’t it?”
He is jealous.
