He narrowed his gaze further, but that was the only response I got as he padded naked from the room.
And I slumped back into my pillow since sitting up hadnothelped matters.
When I heard him return, I rolled my head to watch his approach. That was what I intended, at least. Instead, my gaze was zeroed in on his cock that was somehow hardening already.
And he calls me a siren.
Maybe he’s the male equivalent, here to sex me up until I fall into a coma.
“It’s a good thing filming isn’t starting soon,” he said, rich amusement in his voice.
I thought he meant because we would have more time for repeat performances—that’s what my libido took it as—but then he lifted his muscular arm and turned.
Scratch marks.
Angry red lines marring his skin.
“Oh my God, I amsosorry,” I rushed out as I launched up.
And guaranteed a required bedding change, but whatever.
“Don’t be. I like it.” It wasn’t just honesty on his handsome face. There was a fair amount of arrogance curving his mouth as he glanced down at my handy work.
Wearing the streaks like a badge of honor.
“I’ll still be more careful with filming and everything,” I tried.
“Don’t be,” he repeated. “That’s what makeup and editing is for.”
That meant anyone and everyone on set would see the marks, and it would be an easy guess where they came from.
I hadn’t been working for Tripp for long. All I’d seen was pre- and post-production. We never went out unless it was to Gilded—and no one paid attention to us there. But that wouldn’t be the case if he showed up to a film set looking like he’d fought a feral kitten. The panic at howunprivate his private life was started to creep in, but I did my best to push it away to think about a different time.
Or never.
Never was a different time.
I flashed him my own teasing smile to mask the uneasiness of my thoughts while he tenderly wiped between my legs with a warm, damp cloth. “I guess this is payback for your teeth marks on my butt.”
He froze, and his gray eyes shot to me. “I left teeth marks?”
“They’re mostly gone now.”
He tossed the cloth into the hamper before rolling me to confirm that they were there but faded.
And then he promptly bit the same spot again, deepening the mark.
Great, I’m a scratching kitten and he’s a jaguar—all sleek dominance with a powerful bite.
Once he was satisfied with his physical claim on my butt cheek, he rolled me to my back and sat at the side of my bed.
I wondered if he was going to say he had to leave.
I wondered if I should nonchalantly let him off the hook so he could make his escape without feeling like he did a jizz-and-jet.
And if he was going to go home, I wondered if he would invite me along since mine was, um, slightly less luxurious.
I didn’t have to wonder for long.
