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Shivering, I crouched down, picking up a strawberry at a time. Three seconds later, I finally felt the heat of his glare. Goddamn it. If he thought the childish game of his was going to continue, he had another think coming.
After gathering everything into my arms, I tossed the cheese in the fridge, the pint into the garbage, and slammed the refrigerator door with enough force I was certain I’d broke several bottles. I didn’t care. He could afford more. Lots more.
He stood there staring at me, pulling the bottle of beer to his lips every few seconds as if needing to drown in the alcohol. I was floored at the effect he still had on me, my skin tingling to the point I couldn’t seem to stop shaking.
As I walked closer, he shifted the same heated gaze I’d seen dozens of times down the front of me, likely laughing inside at my choice of attire. Jean shorts and a tank top. The day had been sweltering, the humidity ungodly. Just walking outside had left me wet and hot all over.
And it had only a small amount to do with the weather.
Phoenix didn’t move an inch when I grabbed the bottle from his hand, but our fingers touched, and I was shocked at the level of current tugging at my organs. Blood pounded through my veins echoing in my ears. As I took a sip, his breathing became labored, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
Then he yanked the bottle from me, just as possessive as all his other actions, the fire of lust on his face more pronounced than before.
“Are you going to continue not talking to me?” I asked. He seemed much taller than before, so large that his size felt oppressive.
“What do we need to talk about?” He polished off the beer and I watched his Adam’s apple bobbing. When he was finished, he tossed the bottle into the sink, unwanted.
Unneeded.
I was his drug like he was mine, something I’d finally come to terms with during my silent treatment.
“Why you’re so angry.”
“Do I need a reason?” He snorted the question.
“Let’s just say my life is complicated.”
“And you complicated mine. Maybe you deserve to feel a little of what I do.”
The same familiar flash of his eyes might be meant to intimidate me, but it had the opposite effect. I pushed my hand onto my hip, keeping my glare as icy as possible.
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.”
His took several exaggerated breaths, raking me with another powerful look. Then he wrapped his arm around my waist, dragging me onto my toes and against him. As he pressed his hard cock into my stomach, flashes of light pulsed in front of my eyes. The man could drive me to madness in the blink of an eye.
He fisted my hair roughly, yanking on my head as he lowered his. “You don’t want me. I’m not good for you.”
The words were stated with such defiance, a man desperate for me to believe him. “I don’t care.”
“I’ll fucking ruin you.”
“Maybe I’m already ruined.” As he lowered his head even more, I rose onto my tippy toes, my body swaying even in his firm hold. I was crazy, a complete idiot for wanting this man the way I did, but as my mama told me more than once, the heart wants what the heart wants. There was no substitution or absolution.
Maybe I had meant to say salvation.
Our lips were dangerously close, so much so I gathered the scent of the beer he’d just consumed mixed with a hint of cinnamon. The combination was irresistible.
“You don’t know what you’re saying, beauty.”
“So what?”
He issued a husky growl, the sound so low it vibrated in every muscle. I was thrown by the raging need, a hunger that knew no bounds, but when he captured my mouth, the fear and trepidation vanished.
The man was arrogant and imposing, strong and protective.
And I wanted him.
