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And then his eyes landed on the bed, slowly moving from its rumpled state, up to my bare legs.
I was wearing one of his button-up shirts and a loose tie around my neck. I’d only bothered to button up the bottom ones, leaving a top notch view of my cleavage.
Sensuality was just as much of a weapon as a gun.
I smirked, opening my legs just a little bit. Enough to tease him. His eyes narrowed in on my panties but they didn’t settle there. They climbed upwards, taking in his large shirt, the curves of my breasts…
Finally, they settled, not on my face, but on the wine in my hand.
He face darkened, turning into a storming rage as his back straightened. The lazy, exhausted look on his face was gone in an instant.
I burped.
His eyes moved, finally, to my face, and I gave him a snarky grin. “Hola.”
"Where did you get that wine?" His jaw flexed.
Oh, he was really pissed. I took another gulp from the bottle, sighing loudly when I was done. "From under your bed, duh."
He suddenly strode forward, his long legs eating up the distance between us in mere seconds. His face was a raging storm, his eyes centered on the wine bottle in my hands.
Fear sparked in my chest, making my heart pound loudly in my ears.
For the first time since I'd been here, I was afraid for my life.
I threw the book off my lap, then jumped from the bed and skirted across the room.
"Aster," he growled, easily skating around the bed to chase me around the room. "Give me that bottle.”
He surged at me so quickly that panic made me forget the fact that I could use the bottle as a weapon and instead, I swiveled on my feet, thrusting it at him.
“Here. You can have it. It's not that good, anyways."
He growled, grasping the bottle and holding it to his chest protectively.
Jeez, what was his deal? Protective much over some stupid alcohol? Maybe he was an alcoholic.
He marched over to the dressers and unceremoniously placed it on the top. “Ruined now.” He seemed to be speaking more to himself than me. Placing both hands on the drawers, he stared at the empty space over them for what felt like forever, taking in a deep breath.
Laughter bubbled up inside me but I swallowed it down. He appeared angry and maybe, I was still slightly buzzed. Yes. Definitely still buzzed.
"Don't ever touch that again, is that clear? Or I will strip every single thing from this room and you will eat nothing but bread and water every day for the rest of your life."
He still wasn't facing me and a small, brief, semblance of guilt began to fill my chest.
"Are you okay?"
He turned, snarling at me. "I'm fucking peachy. Now get on the bed."
Any compassion for him shriveled up like a grape in the sun. "Why? I'm not tired."
He began to stalk towards me, his golden, stormy eyes on mine. I took two steps backwards, my throat suddenly dry as his angry steps drew closer.
It was suddenly there, that warm tingling feeling that started in my belly and spread in between my thighs.
Attraction.
His face was so beautiful, even in his anger, that it could be carved by Michelangelo. His furious gaze reminded me of an angry prince or god or something.
