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“Good idea. I’m a comin’ too.”

I spin back round and glare at him. “You touch my door, you’ll lose your fingers.”

His smile widens. “You want me. You do. Everyone wants to fuck me.” He shrugs and heads to the kitchen and opens a cupboard above the fridge and yanks out a nearly empty bottle of Jim Beam and then turns to me.

“Carly,” he calls out. I’m already on the move, heading back to my room.

Ouch. My knee stings. I look down. Rugburn!

“What?” I snap, rubbing my knee.

“Maybe I should rachet that sexual tension up a few notches. See how you handle it.”

I roll my eyes. “You’ve got an ego the size of Texas, Aiden Carmichael.”

He stares dead into my eyes and manages to pin me to the spot. He wets his lower lip with his tongue and then skims that lip with his top teeth. It’s as if he’s tuned in sharply to staring deeper into my eyes.

If I weren’t so exhausted and flustered, and if I didn’t already hate him, I’d probably melt. Instead, I give him a sour look, the left side of my upper lip going up in my signature Billy Idol expression, a look that does a great job of expressing my distaste.

But, it doesn’t work.

His lips part and his chest moves up in an inhale and then as he slowly exhales, it’s like he’s blowing out sex potion.

Before I give anything away, I spin around and storm to my room.

I hear him laughing behind me.

10

AIDEN

She wants me.

She wants me, and she can practically taste me, but she’s denying it. That’s all right, though; I like a challenge. I don’t get to indulge in this sorta challenge too often, so this should be fun. Though… most bitches cave at the first hurdle. I can use the distraction from the bullshit I’m dealing with right now by challenging her both here and at the office.

A couple days and she’ll be cleaning this apartment without complaint. She’ll cook extra and leave it for me, glad I’m eating her food. I’d throw down a bet she’ll wind up doing my laundry before this game is done and practically drooling to be fuckin’ eating me. And I’ll put her in her place at the office. Firmly way under me on the totem pole and wanting to be under me any place she can be under me.

But first, sleep. I am really fucking drunk. And I’m good at this game even drunk. I shoot to kill, and I never lose.

When I sober up, watch out Carly Adler with the great rack, sweet ass (of which I’ll enjoy taking a bite), and cute as fuck sass.

All that’s gonna be mine. For an hour or three.

I’m gonna fuck her so hard, she’s gonna forget her name. But, she won’t forget mine, not ever. Fuckin’ love the sassy way she says my name when she’s annoyed with me.

I undress, lie on my stomach, reach under and then grab my satin sheet and wrap it around my cock. And then I fuck my

fist, envisioning that it’s her silky heat that’s around me instead.

11

CARLY

Coffee. Need coffee. I slept from the time I got home yesterday until my alarm this morning, other than the brief unpleasant encounter with him. And I still feel like I need more sleep. I stumble to the coffee pot.

I drop the coffee pod into the single-serve machine and hit the button, but as I’m fitting my mug underneath, I feel something staticky on the back of my neck.

“Hey.”

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