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“You’re old enough to dress yourself.”

“I didn’t ask you to dress me. I asked you to help me.”

He crosses his arms, staring me down from the corridor. “No. My job is to stand guard outside the door while you change, not to play dress-up.”

My lips curve into a smirk. “Scared to come in?”

Leo’s brown eyes lock on mine; his expression practically screams, Oh, no, you didn’t.

And Knox’s jaw tightens into his usual unreadable expression.

“No.”

“You know I posted that I was coming here, right?” I step closer to him, lowering my voice so the associate can’t hear. “And you saw how the staff knows me by name. What if the stalker is waiting for me in one of these dark and secluded changing rooms? Good luck explaining to Logan how I got stabbed because you let me out of your sight.”

Knox glares at me, his eyes burning with irritation.

“Fuck…” he mutters under his breath.

A second later, he follows me in.

I step inside the changing room and wait. Knox follows, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Oof, someone’s in a bad mood,” I mock, dropping the clothes into his arms and stripping off my shirt.

Knox’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he turns his back on me, only to find himself facing the full-length mirror.

Hahahaha! Cute…

Standing this close to him while removing my clothes feels so intense that it makes my body shiver with expectation.

And I know the only reason he touched me that night in my bedroom was out of anger… and probably from lack of sleep.

Yet, despite the reason behind it, I want more.

So please, god of the angry sex, let this be a repeat of what happened that day…

I strip off my trousers and the rest of my clothes down to my tiny briefs, taking my sweet time as I debate what to try on first.

I move closer, and between his anger, his irritation, and the heat in his eyes reflected in the mirror, the atmosphere in this tiny room is deliciously intoxicating.

I want to drive this man absolutely crazy.

I want him mad.

I grab the pants, turn my back to him, and bend over. I deliberately arch my spine, giving him the best view as I slowly slide the fabric up my thighs.

I stand up and stretch the waistband out, letting the material catch just beneath the curve of my ass.

I tease him for a second, shifting my hips to make it jiggle right in front of him, before I finally pull them all the way up.

I zip them up and face him.

When I turn around, Knox looks like a statue.

No, scratch that.

He’s too primal to be called something so dead and stiff, especially when every muscle in his body looks so alive.