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He shrugs, his large hand still cupping my hip. “Having a beautiful woman watching me might make me work a little harder.”
I release a quiet sigh of relief that that’s all he would want me to do in the gym.
I’m still not peeling his palm off my hip, and I should be. “Don’t you work hard enough?”
“I’m lazy,” he drawls. “I do just enough to get by. Maybe I need more motivation.”
“From me?” I lift my brow.
He leans toward me, bringing his delicious alpha pheromones so close, my eyelids flutter closed as I drag it deep into my lungs, wanting more of it.
“Nancy was cleaning in your room earlier,” he murmurs.
“Thanks for telling me.” I don’t care, but I need to say something.
He has me practically pinned to the hallway wall, and it still doesn’t feel close enough.
His eyes settle on my lips, and they tingle from his focused attention. “I didn’t want you going in there and being alarmed or surprised.”
“Thanks,” I say, still not caring.
“Have you thought about my request?” A husky note creeps into his voice.
I lift my eyes to his, confused. “Request?”
His fingers brush my jaw. “That thing I asked you to say.”
He’s really serious about this.
I raise my brow. “Surely you have todosomething to deserve the title.”
I don’t know where the words come from, but it’s nothing Everleigh Wentworth would ever say. From the flash of amusement in Kylian’s steel-gray eyes, followed swiftly by desire, he doesn’t mind being made to work for the title of good boy.
“And what”—his fingers glide along my jaw—“would I need todoto earn that title?”
Give it to me nice and slow.
Strangling my arousal, I look away.
Kylian doesn’t let me.
“Thought of something?” he breathes, the corners of his eyes creasing with amusement.
I shake my head. “No.”
Lie.
He leans even closer. Spiced whiskey, cedar, and bergamot envelop me. I inhale, and I nearly moan.
This isn’t Lawrence’s cloying, thick cherry, rum, and pepper scent. Kylian is spice and addiction. He’s a scent I would happily drown myself in and still crave more.
I don’t know how I can suddenly feel this needy. Did Rune’s slow kitchen seduction prime me for this? All I can think to do—all Iwantto do—is have Kylian pin me to the wall. Take me to the floor. Bend me over. I don’t care how, but all I want is for him to take me.
I grip my damp towel tighter so I don’t grip the alpha curving his body around mine instead.
His lips brush the top of my hair as he speaks. “Surely there’s something I can do to be worthy of being your good boy, Everleigh.”
I don’t respond. Can’t when I’m fighting so hard to breathe.
