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Before he can even reply, I break eye contact and hurry towards the door.
I don’t even make it three steps before he’s on his feet and in my way. Staggering back a step, I narrowly manage to avoid slamming right into his muscular chest. With a scowl on my face, I glare up at him and get ready to ask what the hell he’s doing. But the words die on my tongue when I see the expression on his features.
“We’re not done,” he says, his expression dark.
My heart slams against my ribs.
He takes a step forward.
I take a step back.
There is some kind of emotion burning in his eyes. It’s so intense that I feel like that fire in his gaze sucks all the air out of the room, making it difficult to breathe.
I drag in an unsteady breath as Kaden backs me across the room. My back hits the wall with a thud.
Kaden keeps moving until he’s standing so close that I can almost feel the heat from his skin. He towers over me, looming like the shadow of death while his muscular body blocks out everything else until he is all I can see. His dark and mysterious scent crowds my senses, filling my lungs and making my head spin. Everything about him overpowers me. His lethal body. His intoxicating scent. His intense eyes. This man is built for complete dominance.
My heart jerks in my chest as he braces his palms against the wall on either side of my head, caging me in with his arms.
Craning my neck, I stare up at his dangerously handsome face and meet those dark eyes of his. That strange emotion still burns like wildfire in there. But I can’t figure out what it is.
“You will never let Eric Wilson, or any other man, touch you ever again,” he declares. “Am I making myself clear?”
My heart flips at the dark possessiveness in his voice.
And suddenly, I realize what the fire in his eyes is.
Jealousy.
Kaden Hunter is… jealous.
The absolutely ludicrous realization makes my mouth drop open.
For a few seconds, I just gape at him. Then I blurt out, “Are you jealous?”
His eyes flash, and he clenches his jaw. “I’m not jealous.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No—”
An astonished laugh rips from my throat, cutting him off. Shaking my head, I stare up at him in disbelief. “Oh my God, you’re jealous.”
“I’ve already told you,” he growls in my face. “I’m not jealous. Jealousy would require that I actually care about you. Which I don’t.”
“Uh-huh. Then why are you telling me that no other man is allowed to touch me?”
Taking one hand off the wall, he wraps it around my throat in a highly possessive and controlling move. His eyes bore into mine as he levels a commanding stare on me. “Because you’re mine to do with as I please. And when I give you an order, you fucking obey. Is that clear?”
A dark thrill races down my spine, and my thighs clench. God, I want him to fuck me. I want those possessive hands all over my body and I want to finally find out if he fucks as dominantly as he does everything else.
That thought is immediately followed by anger. At myself. At him. At fucking everything.
“No!” I snap. Yanking up my hands, I slam them against his hard chest in anger. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t sleep with.”
He remains as unmovable as a mountain, his hand still around my throat as he retorts, “Watch me.”
“Asshole.” I slam my palms against his annoyingly firm chest again, which doesn’t even make him flinch. “You insufferable, arrogant, domineering—”
