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“Well, you’ll be waiting for an awfully long time, because I’m not taking that key,” I said, standing defiantly.
Richard eased forward, calling my bluff. “Melissa,” he whispered. “Take the key.”
“No.”
“Take it.”
“No.”
Richard didn’t ask again. He merely touched the edge to my chin. The cool metal sent a shiver across my skin as he gently glided it down my throat.
“Richard,” I said, far too weak to stop the inevitable.
Richard pushed the key into my blouse, boldly nestling it between my cleavage before letting it go.
I cackle even harder. The balls on this guy...
“I’ll be waiting, Ms. Aster,” he whispered.
I inhaled to speak, to toss him an insult or another exaggerated eye roll, but I couldn’t. Truthfully, that stupid stunt of his was working. But not only that...
It was the hottest thing that had ever happened to me in my entire life.
Her entire life, eh?
My eyes slip off the page, inching once again toward my bedside table. I ignore the bright green numbers of the clock judging me for staying up late and focus on the phone instead.
When I asked Paige for her hottest hook-up story… I did not expect the answer I received.
I expected a sordid tale of her and some guy who didn’t speak the same language, but still knew how to use his tongue.
I very much did not expect her to say that I was the last man she slept with.
It has been four years.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course, but…
Why?
I reach across the bedside table toward the phone, but I pause before I can touch it.
No, I shouldn’t call her, I think to myself.
I should leave her be. Sure, I could pry. Prying into Paige Landon has quickly become one of my favorite activities, but I can’t shake off that look on her face before.
I pull my hand back and rest it by my side on the bed.
Unfortunately, this topic is one I’ll just have to drop.
The phone rings as I’m staring at it. I flinch in surprise, my chest lurching forward as I reach out to grab it before the end of the second ring.
“Hi, Paige,” I answer. Who else would call my room at this hour? “What’s up?”
“A cliffhanger?!”
I squint. “What?”
“A cliffhanger?!” she repeats, just as angry as the first time. “You made me read a book with a cliffhanger?!”
