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Chapter twenty-three
Tonight was the gala. All Chandler told me was that it was a fundraiser, and important people would be there. Other than that, I had no idea what to expect. My father held galas all the time, only we called themsocials. I supposed it would be something like those.
Whether Chandler wanted to admit it or not, this was a date. You didn’t buy three-thousand-dollar dresses for prisoners. I was on my way to get ready when the sound of Chandler’s voice floated down the hall.
“I can’t leave right now. You think you and Lyric can handle this week?” There was a pause, then, “Yeah. I’m still babysitting.”
I glared toward the sound of his voice.Babysitting?I almost growled at him when I approached his room.
His door was open, and he stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out over the city. His body was angled to the side. A white towel wrapped loosely around his hips, and reflections of the bedroom light gleamed off tiny water droplets all over his body. He was tall, but not obnoxiously so; six foot if I had to guess, with a long, lean physique. Toned but not bulky. And not a single mark on his flesh. No piercings. No tattoos. Just perfect olive skin. And that was just the exposed view. Beneath the towel, the outline of his cock, thick and long, pressed against the cotton, leaving nothing to the imagination. I knew that cock. Intimately. I’d felt those veins against my tongue. My god. Everything went hot all at once, as if someone had lit a match and set my body on fire from the inside. One look at the way his muscles flexed every time he moved, and I forgot what an ass he was.
He was dangerous, and I knew I should look away. But trying not to stare at a half-naked Chandler was like trying not to close your eyes when you sneezed. I couldn’t have fought it if I’d tried.
He moved to turn around, and my heart stopped. We’d come a long way since my first day here, but that didn’t mean he would be okay with catching me spying on him.
Careful not to make a sound, I scurried back to my room and started a bath. As the water filled the tub, filling the room with steam from its heat, I grabbed my bra and panties and a towel and set them on the vanity. After I undressed, I pulled my hair into a topknot, ready to unwind.
Every time I heard a noise, I wondered if it was Chandler barging in to scold me for spying. He never did.
Once the tub was full, I climbed in and sank down, letting the water relax my tired body. I rested my head against the back and closed my eyes, trying to get the image of Chandler out of my head.
Nothing worked, not even when I thought about Jamie Fraser fromOutlander. All my thoughts drifted back to the man across the hall. The king of men couldn’t even compare.
I was mentally tired, emotionally drained, and in obvious need of orgasm therapy. That was the only way to describe the way my body kept reacting to him. The pent-up frustration and anger had my nerves wound tight. I knew my body, knew how it worked. All I needed was a release.
I spread my legs wide and found that tiny bundle of nerves, letting my finger brush my clit. A quiet moan broke free from my lips.
Just as I started to eased my middle finger down my slit, a high-pitchedwhirringsound snapped me out of my fantasy.
I snapped my eyes open to find Chandler standing at the bathroom door with a cordless drill, unscrewing the hinges. He’d exchanged the towel for a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips and weren’t any less tempting.
My hands flew up to cover my chest. “What the hell are you doing?”
He smirked. “You don’t have to hide. I own a strip club. I’ve seen tits before.”
Yeah, but notmytits. Which led me to wonder how long he’d been standing there watching me, how much he’d seen.
Wait… did he just say he owned a strip club? My stomach dropped at the thought of him seeing anyone’s tits. Or touching them. Or doing God only knew what with them. Jealousy tugged at me, and I hated the way it felt.
“Why are you taking down my door?” I asked, swallowing the rock in my throat.
“Were you not just standing outside my bedroom? Watching me? Listening to my conversation?”
Well, yeah, but I hoped he hadn’t noticed.
Of course he noticed. Somehow, he knew everything.
He held the door in place with one hand, then turned his attention to me. His penetrating gaze dragged over every inch of my body, leaving me feeling violated without him even touching me. He slowly ran his tongue over his bottom lip, then set his jaw. “You took away my privacy. I’m taking away yours.” Then he went back to unhinging the door. “Get dressed, Princess. We have a party to go to.”
The door tilted off the frame, allowing him to grab it with both hands and carry it out of my room.
I sat here dazed and confused with my stomach doing cartwheels.
Chandler saw me naked.
No.
He didn’tseeme naked.
Heexperiencedme naked.
There were too many exposed parts to cover up with just two hands. His inspection of my body was a palpable, electric thing that I felt all the way to my core. And I was left buzzing with an energy I wouldn’t be able to ignore much longer.
