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I bristle at his challenge. He wants me begging, but I know just how to drive him insane.
I look at my shabby pajamas, the corner of my lip curling into a smile. Two can play this game.
“You’re right. It is hot in here.” I stand from the couch and slide the top button of my shirt through the hole. His whole body tenses, and his gaze is pinned to where my hands work the next button, revealing the top of my breast.
He takes a step toward me, but I skirt away from him, making my way toward the bedroom. I close the door behind me and drop my head against the hollow wood surface, taking several breaths. Am I really going to do this?
The rational part of me screams no, but there’s a darker part of me that pushes me forward, that wants to break his control.
I slide my dresser drawer open and dig toward the back, pulling out an emerald-green silk nighty. It’s cut high in the back and devastatingly low in the front. Quickly divesting my flannel, I slide the cool fabric of the dress over my head, letting it fall to just below the crease where my butt meets the back of my thighs. Any attempt at bending over would reveal the vibrant pink lace beneath.
My reflection in the mirror is someone who barely looks like me, and my smile grows, knowing he’s about to get a taste of his own medicine. With any luck, he’ll be the one begging. Preferably on his knees.
The loud click of his water glass hitting the counter fills my tiny apartment the second I walk out. I make my way to the kitchen, ignoring the hot brand of his gaze on my bare skin, and move behind him to grab a glass from the cupboard.
They’re a little out of reach, and I lift on my toes. He lets out a guttural groan when the hem rises several inches. The sound coats my insides, pebbling my nipples instantly. I gasp when his chest meets my back, caging me against the counter. My heart pounds in my ears until it blocks out all sounds, and the only thing that matters is where his body touches mine.
All reason vanishes from my mind, and I press back into him, wanting nothing more than to have his hands on me.
His mouth grazes my ear, sending shivers down my spine, and his breath is warm on my skin, setting me on fire when he says, “Be careful or you’ll lose this game, and I’m not done playing with you.”
He reaches up, hands me a glass, and steps back, putting several feet between us. The air’s cold with the sudden loss of his heat. An overwhelming feeling of being dismissed curdles in my stomach, and a sick wave of embarrassment takes over. I spin and glare at him. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”
He runs his thumb along his bottom lip. “Your nipples are hard.”
Dammit. I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s cold in here.”
“Sure it is.” He chuckles low in his throat, giving me a knowing look. He doesn’t bother to hide when he reaches down and adjusts his pants. The outline of his hard cock. Shit, even through the fabric, it’s clear that he’s massive. He wants me to see what I do to him.
I hurry from the kitchen, needing to put space between us before I do something epically stupid, like jumping him. He glances at my empty glass, then back to me. I don’t bother going back for it. I’m not sure what I’ll do if I have to be that close to him again.
“I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” The excuse is lame, but I can barely think.
“It’s ten.” His smirk grows into a smile.
“It’s been a long day.” I don’t even care that he knows I’m hiding when I escape into my room, thanking God that the bathroom has double access from both the living room and my bedroom. I lock the connecting door and place my hands on the counter, letting it take my weight. My pupils are blown wide, leaving only a sliver of green, and my cheeks are flushed pink. I look wild, untamed, and the feeling is addicting.
I pull my hair back into a clip and wash my face. The water is the only thing cooling me down. I don’t hear Damon walk in until his arm touches mine.
I startle, splashing water over the counter.
“You’re jumpy tonight. Does something have you anxious?” He says it entirely too casually as he grabs his toothbrush from my counter.
I’m momentarily shocked at the normality of the motion. Like he’s been in my bathroom a thousand times before and there’s nothing unusual about this whole thing.
“Of course not.” Determined to not let him see just how much he is getting to me, I grab my own toothbrush and brush my teeth. He watches me in the mirror with dark eyes as he bends over to spit in the sink. I’m completely unprepared for how hot that simple action is.
It’s not hot. It’s disgusting.
I rinse my mouth out, glad that this whole thing is nearly done. “Okay, well, good night.”
Why does he look so freaking amused by that?
“Good night.”
I crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head. “Shut the light off when you go out, please.”
See, I can be normal. He hits the lights, but instead of leaving, he walks to the opposite side of the bed. The sound of his zipper has me spinning to see him.
