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I hear the creak again, and I try to listen for her footsteps in the hall, maybe the sound of my bedroom door closing so I know she’s in bed. I’m so fucking tired, though. I got so relaxed with her lying on top of me, it’s hard to keep my eyes open.
I don’t hear the bedroom door close, but I’m sure she’s in there by now.
The couch doesn’t feel so cold anymore, but I still drift off to sleep thinking about the next time I can fall asleep in that bed with her.
Chapter fourteen
Kennedy
Jonathan Granville blocks my path to the bedroom.
He’s shirtless and barefoot, just a pair of blue sweats hanging so low on his slim hips, I can see the perfect V of his Adonis belt pointing down to the bulge in his pants.
My skin is still flushed from the pleasure I just experienced downstairs with his father, but the hallway is probably dark enough that he can’t tell. I search his shadowed face for signs that he just woke up, but… he looks pretty awake.
Oh my god, did he hear us?
He must not have, right? He would have said something immediately. Hell, he might have come downstairs and interrupted. I believe he is that much of an asshole.
I don’t know what to say, but I don’t have to figure it out. He breaks the silence.
“What are you doing out of bed in the middle of the night?”
I’m hyperconscious of how much of my body is exposed. I didn’t pull the sweater on to go downstairs, so I’m just wearing the skimpy crop top and my comfy sleep shorts.
I would’ve worn the sweater if I’d thought there was even a slim chance I’d run into him.
Still a little lost for words, I hold up the bottle of water I went downstairs for. “I—I was thirsty.”
His lips curve up unkindly as he looks at the water bottle. “I bet you were.”
I don’t realize until after I’ve shown it as evidence that I didn’t do anything wrong, the bottle of water sat on the counter for so long after Milo ran it over my warm skin, the outside is sweating. All the bottle proves is that I went downstairs and stayed for a while.
I lower the bottle, but keep my gaze trained on Jonathan’s so I don’t give off the impression of guilt. My heart skitters, tempting me to break his gaze and flee as he takes a purposeful step forward.
There’s aggression in the set of his broad shoulders as he stalks toward me, shades of cruelty splashed across his handsome features.
My fight-or-flight instincts scream for me to act now before it’s too late. I want to avoid a confrontation, so I step to the side and try to move past him down the hall.
I don’t get far. He grabs my arm and pushes me back toward the wall. I stumble, catching myself against the hard surface as he lets go.
Jonathan closes in immediately, invading my personal space and leaning close in an effort to intimidate me.
His tone is hateful, his breath hot on my skin. “Did you just fuck my father, stray?”
“No,” I say quickly, trying to slide down the wall so I can get away from him. His arm shoots out to stop me, his palm slamming against the wall beside my head and making me jump.
“No?” His tone a blend of skepticism and mockery, he leans even closer. “So, if I pushed a finger into your tight little cunt right now, you’d be dry?”
Dread trickles through me. My body is reacting strangely to the potent dose of fear sparked by his threat and his filthy choice of words uttered in that low, gravelly tone. This isn’t the first time in my life I’ve been cornered by a man and given attention I didn’t want, but itisthe first time I’ve felt anything but fear, anger, and utter revulsion.
I gasp as Jonathan roughly grabs my jaw, forcing my fearful gaze to his.
“Answer me,” he demands.
Anger courses through me, and I glare at him. “If you pushed a finger into any part of my body right now, that would be assault, and I would scream.”
His eyebrows rise with arrogant amusement. “Yeah? What do you think would happen if you did? My dad would call the police on his own son, they’d haul me away, and you two would live happily ever after?” He smirks, his grip on my jaw tightening. “No. I think you’re shrewd enough to keep your mouth shut no matter what I do to you.”
