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There are blue patches on both legs, leading all the way up and underneath the towel, starting again on the curve of her pert breasts. Long bluish-tinged hair hangs all the way to that delectable curve, mostly dried now, meaning she’s waited quite a while for this confrontation.
The thought makes my dick twitch. The fucking sadist.
Her face is both bright blue and seething red as her jaw clenches in a way that makes me want to lick it. And then she hops down from the counter in a fluid movement, her feet padding across the marble surface until she’s right before me.
A beguiling smile overtakes her face, making my cock stir against my black suit pants.
She places a petite hand flat against my chest, playing with my tie before her eyes—those fucking eyes—find mine.
Unforgettably unique gray irises anchor me to the floor as she quirks a dark brow.
“Bravo on transforming me into a Smurf,Vaughn.”
The way she says my name is almost my undoing.
Off-limits. Out of bounds. Can’t fuck her.Won’tfuck her.
The words mean diddly-fucking-squat to the hard-on straining to get out of my damn pants.
I shrug nonchalantly. “Good to see you can give credit where credit isblue.”
Her nostrils flare, and I can’t help but smirk until she grips my tie and forcibly pulls my face down to hers.
She narrows her eyes as I watch her with laughing ones of my own.
“This means war, Cactus.” Her eyes trace the contours of my face before she steps back.
“And I fight dirty.”
Then she saunters off down the hallway, stopping at her doorway to look back at me. Mischief plays across her stunning face before she unhooks the toweljustas she walks over the threshold, tossing it back into the hall before she slams the door.
I lean back against the now-closed elevator doors, a wicked grin plastered to my lips. “Game fucking on, little bird.”
CHAPTER10
WREN
It’s mid-morning by the time I haul my ass out of bed, following a night spent Googling how to rid myself of my new shade of blue.
I throw my legs over one side of the mattress, planting my feet on the floor before stretching my entire body. I’m not used to such a staid lifestyle, and I can almost feel my joints beginning to fuse through inactivity.
Maybe painting would help…
I try Mom’s cell to no avail before the smell of food hits my nostrils. Once I’ve thrown on the black hoodie that may or may not be in need of refreshing at this point, I slowly amble out into the living space.
To my utter surprise, Vaughn is sitting at the kitchen island, dressed casually in jogging gear. The perspiration on his brow indicates he’s just finished a workout.
“Morning, little bird.” His dancing eyes encompass my still-stained face over the rim of his coffee cup before meeting my gaze. I narrow my eyes in reply before grabbing my usual iced tea from the refrigerator.
I silently take in the spread before him. French toast with syrup and fruit. Blueberry pancakes topped with whipped cream. Piles of crispy bacon, sausage, and sunny-side-up eggs just begging to be inhaled.
My stomach complainsloudlyas I pluck a single banana from the fruit bowl on the dining table.
“Help yourself.” He gestures toward the feast. “When it comes to food, I wouldn’t fuck with you.”
I slowly peel the banana, holding his gaze with a disbelieving one of my own. “Mmm-hmm.Riiiiiiight. There’s probably arsenic on the toast and brake fluid in the sausage links, Cactus.”
He snorts so hard into his coffee that he begins to cough, and I’m helpless from the smile that makes my lips twitch.
