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“You need to get dressed.”
“I’m just proving my point.”
“And what’s that?”
“You promised Jax that you’d protect me, but, Caleb…” she teased, slightly rubbing her fingers on her pussy. “Who’s going to protect me from you?” Arching an eyebrow, she added, “Should I keep going?”
The little shit was being spiteful. It was the cold bucket of water I needed to quit this game she was playing with me.
I was in control.
Always.
With a heated glare, I flipped the script on her. I gripped onto her throat and pinned her against the mirror behind her.
Her breathing hitched, thinking she was getting what she wanted.
Me.
We locked eyes, realizing the compromising position I held her in.
Her tits on my chest.
Her pussy inches away from my cock.
Despite losing control for a minute, she needed to understand this wouldn’t happen again.
“This what you want, darlin’?”
Her gaze widened, bright and bold. “Not as much as you do.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“And what do you think I want, Evie?”
She swallowed hard. “Me.”
Letting her go, I backed away. “What I want is for you to get dressed.”
She flinched, and the rejection was clear across her expression. I should have left, but I couldn’t take the look in her stare.
It was too painful.
“Let’s get one thing straight—what I want and what I have to do are two different things.”
“Or we could just tell Jax the truth. You just proved you still want me. Try to deny it—I dare you.”
The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her, but it was the only choice I had left.
“Sweetheart, you’re just another girl who threw herself at me.” I yanked the towel off the rack and threw it at her. “Don’t be so fucking desperate. It’s not a good look.”
She grimaced, catching the towel and wrapping it around her chest.
“Now put some fucking clothes on. I’m driving you home.”
I turned around and left. Although, once again, it was the last thing…
