It’s pure, sexual, almost an animalistic attraction, because Gia Fontaine is the last person I should put my dick into.
My eyes take in her face. How did I not recognize her? But then again, how in a million years would I have ever guessed she would show up, in a club… dressed like that.
I’m fucking livid, and the more I think about the way she looked last night in that scrap of a dress, the more I realize she knew exactly what she was doing.
I toss her on the bed. Grabbing both of her hands, I pin them on top of her head.
“What is wrong with you?” I shake her, causing the bed to move.
“Me?” she thunders, her hair wild, her lips red and swollen from last night and our almost violent mating.
“Why didn’t you say something?” I shake the bed again.
“Because you would have stopped, and I wanted you more than anything in this world!” Her emerald eyes spill with angry tears.
I let her go. Her words burn into my soul. What the hell? This is wrong, so wrong, but knowing it doesn’t change the fact that I want to lock her in with me and fuck her, over and over.
“This is wrong,” I state. I need another cigarette, something to distract me from her vanilla smell. She’s like a delicious, forbidden dessert. One you know you should never try, but when you do, you devour it.
My cock is rock hard. It doesn’t seem to understand that she’s off-limits.
Forever.
“You’re right about that.” She rubs her wrist. “God, I’m such an idiot because I believed in you. I freakin’ saved myself for you. You jerk.”
“I… how are you even here?”
“I thought you… Never mind. Get off of me. I was wrong.” Her voice cracks.
My eyes sweep over her. Gone is the gangly girl with skinny legs and dirty feet. She’s grown into those legs and is everything I always knew she would be.
Simply stunning. Unfortunately for either of us, she hasn’t changed her ways. Instead of spying, she’s somehow done the unthinkable and ended up in my bed. And now that I’ve tasted her, I want more, so much more.
Memories of last night and the way her candy cunt tasted make me snort in disgust that I was so fucked up I didn’t even get to enjoy her.
And now I can’t.
This was a mistake, a huge one that will never happen again. I need answers, even if they are laced with lies from that sweet mouth.
“Gia. I’m not going to ask again. What the fuck are you doing here?” She shuts her eyes and turns her face toward the pillow. Her teeth bite down on her bottom lip as if that will stop the tears that she can amazingly turn on.
“Get off of me.” She turns her head almost violently. And there she is, magnificent in her anger and hurt as her eyes shoot me a death stare.
“Easy, Brat, you’re the one who did this. Start talking.” She opens her mouth, but the pounding on the door makes her scream.
“Goddammit, Granger. Is Gia in there?” Nuke’s voice vibrates inside.
“Go away, I’m dealing with shit,” I bellow. I’ll take care of him later. I pull the cover up just as he storms in looking like a lunatic, eyes wild as he lunges for me.
“You fuck.” His fist connects with my chin and I’m done.
Done with Gia, her drama, and whatever fucked-up shit she’s got going on with Nuke.
I stand before he can get another punch in and go straight for his ribs, gut punching him until he bends over to catch his breath, wheezing.
“Nuke, oh my God.” She jumps up and I grab her arm. Jesus Christ, she’s truly lost it.
“You’re fucking naked.” I shake her, turning so I block her from Nuke. I’d rather him see my ass than anything on Gia.
“Let go of me!” she screeches.
My eye twitches. This is over. I grab my T-shirt, which is hanging on the chair, and drag her toward the bathroom.
“Get dressed, Gia, and then get the fuck out of here before I do something we’ll both regret.” I shove her stunned face in and slam the bathroom door.
“What in the ever-loving-fuck is happening?” Rafe, our manager, stands in the doorway drenched in sweat, completely out of breath. If his tone is any indication, he was interrupted before he could finish his daily morning run.
His blue eyes narrow on me. Arching a brow at my naked ass, he swings toward Nuke who is still slightly wheezing, hands on his knees.
“Tell him.”
“Tell me what?” he roars, then holds up a hand as his phone starts vibrating.
“Fucking perfect.” I brush past him, pull on some jeans, and stumble into the other room. The rain has stopped, allowing the rays of sunlight to streak into the suite.