He stepped in her path, blocking the door.
“I want you to stay.”
She snorted. “Yeah, well news flash, Cross. We don’t always get what we want.”
“Yeah, but I’m getting this.” He lifted his chin. “Get in bed.”
“Why?” She spread out her arms. “I’m not gonna fuck you if that’s what you think.”
His lips twitched. “Wasn’t thinking about fucking.”
“Oh, that’s right,” She laughed without an ounce of humor. “If that was the case, you’d be telling me to get on the couch.”
She was still bitter about the situation and it was showing.And I don’t care.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“The keg girl from the party. In addition to telling me I was the first of the night, she accurately guessed that you fucked me on the couch. According to her, that’s where you fuckallyour women.”
Cross grasped his hips and sighed. There was no denial on his end.
“Was she lying?”
“I don’t letanyonein my bed.” He inched closer. Another foot and they’d be touching. “Get in bed.”
“You just said…”
“You’re my exception.”
The exception to every other woman he’d ever been with? That was quite the declaration.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered, and his gaze softened. “You just are.”
It was a moment, but Addison wouldn’t be naïve enough to think of it as anything more than a power move. Cross liked control. He was used to it. She could protest but…
She glanced back at his bed. She was exhausted. Where was the harm, and after the ordeal she was comforted to know she wouldn’t be alone, at least for tonight.
“Fine.” She folded her arms. “But we’renotfucking.”
“Alright.”
Alright? What the hell kind of answer was that? A little pursuing would’ve been nice so she could turn him down formally.Alright?
She toed off her shoes and pulled the covers back. She shifted her legs and groaned under her breath. The idea of sleeping in her jeans had her rethinking not fighting harder to go home.To my soft comfy pajamas.
She glanced up as Cross lifted his shirt. She hadn’t gotten a full view of the man last time they were together. He had an array of tattoos on his chest. She couldn’t make out most of them past his chest hair. Addison had never had a thing for that trait, but on Cross it was sexy.
“You need something?”
“I need to go home so I can comfortably sleep.” She pointed to her legs.
He walked across to his dresser, pulled out a shirt and tossed it on the bed.
She swiped it. “Do you have a pair of sweats I can borrow?”
His lips twitched, and she knew the answer before he spoke. “No.”
