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“I’ve been well,” I answer with a smooth voice, my eyes trapping hers as I slowly walk her back to stand near the staircase.
Lifting a hand to grip the banister at her back, I cage her in.
She doesn’t appear to mind. If anything, excitement sparks behind her blue eyes, her lips parting just slightly as her chest rises and falls with her breath.
Running a slow look down her body, I take note of the silver dress that hugs her thin frame.
There’s nothing about this woman that draws my attention, but I shrug off the lack of interest and continue the game.
“I hear you’re engaged.”
Hillary’s thumb rubs over her ring, a silent reminder that she shouldn’t be looking at me with dirty sex in her eyes when she’s promised herself to Paul.
I wouldn’t have gone this route in getting even with Paul for the video incident if it wasn’t Hillary he was engaged to. But since she was also involved with the video, I see absolutely no problem using her to get to him.
It’s two birds with one stone, really, and I toss up a silent thanks to the universe for making this happen.
“Um, yes,” she answers, her face flushed and voice slightly breathless. “He proposed a few months ago.”
Leaning in, I grin to see her pulse fluttering faster in her neck and to hear the catch in her breath.
My voice is a bare whisper. “That’s too bad.”
Our eyes meet, and while hers are wide and unblinking, mine are hooded, a lazy threat that promises pleasure and pain.
“It would have been fun.”
Pushing away from the banister, I manage to take a step before her hand locks over my arm, curiosity in her voice.
“What would have been fun?”
That’s when I know I have her.
Poor Paul, I think. I really do feel sorry for a guy whose fiancée can be stolen away this easily. In a way, I’m doing him a favor. But he won’t see it like that.
When I turn back to her, Hillary wraps her fingers over one of my hips to tug me closer. She’s no match for my strength, but I let her think she’s taking control.
“What kind of fun?” she asks again.
A bit eager for my taste, but this isn’t about what I want.
Personally, I can’t stand her, but sometimes, in order to teach a lesson one must suffer the teaching.
Stepping forward until her hips are flush with my body, I search her face with my eyes and reach up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear.
My voice is a dangerous croon when I answer.
“I’m not sure. But I have a feeling we could come up with something.”
Hillary’s lips pull into a languid grin, her eyes heating until the blue is pure liquid.
“Oh,” she purrs. “I think we can.”
The trap is set and ready to go.
My only job now is to decide how best to deliver the damage.
Brinley
