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In a fucked up world, we’d devastate each other.
He places the food next to me and I eye it dispassionately. I wasn’t lying when I said it’s difficult for me to eat when I’m stressed. Between losing my father and my recent financial situation, I’m thinner than I’ve ever been in my life. You’d never know it from the way Hayden stares at me.
Like he’s doing now.
After reaching for a cracker and placing a slice of cheese on top, he offers it to me. I shake my head. Vigorously. Everything he does—except being a deceitful asshole—is sexy. I’ll be damned before I let him seduce me with a fucking piece of cheese. Not to mention, accepting anything from him would feel like an act of surrender.
“I can do it myself.”
“I know.”
“Hayden…” I warn.
“It’s either this,” he says, lifting the food, “or my cock. Your choice.”
My jaw drops. He’s quick to take advantage of my bewildered state and plops the cracker into my mouth. While giving him a death glare, I chew, silently appreciating the sharp flavor coating my tongue.
“Good girl,” he murmurs.
I choke, my eyes widening. After forcing myself to swallow the food, I resume squinting at him. Hayden picks up a strawberry and bites into it slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. Juice drips down his long fingers and my mouth goes dry at the memory of what he’s done to me with them.
“My eyes are up here,” he says in a lazy drawl.
I stiffen at having been caught ogling him and avert my gaze. He’s quick to place a finger under my chin and guide my head back towards him.
“Open for me,” he says. When I part my lips, his pupils contract. “Such a good girl.”
Heat sweeps through me at the praise. Arousal and anger combine, leaving me hot and shaky. I clench my thighs and focus my thoughts on anything except the man in front of me, but he keeps bringing my attention back to him with every touch and every spoken word.
I force myself to remain still until I’ve consumed a fair amount of food, and then I hop down before Hayden can stop me. After racing to the other side and putting the island between us, I shake my head.
“I’m full.”
He sets down the piece of pineapple in his hand and reaches for a napkin to wipe his fingers. “Then it’s time for bed.”
“I’m not sleeping with you.”
His head snaps up. “Care to repeat that?”
“Nope.”
Amusement flickers in his eyes. “I didn’t think so.”
“I’m serious. I need time to think.”
“You can. In my bed. With me.”
I come close to stomping my foot like a petulant child. “You’re not listening to me.”
“I’m definitely hearing you. I’m just denying your suggestion.”
“It isn’t a suggestion or request or anything that fucking requires permission.”
“Language, Miss Green.”
I let out an honest-to-goodness scream. The sound bounces off the walls and furniture, piercing my eardrums hard enough for me to stop. When I clamp my lips together, Hayden tilts his head.
“Feel better?” he asks, his tone chiding and unfazed.
