“That’s none of your business,” she says.
“You wanted to fuck me in the alley,” I say.
“No,” she says. “You wanted to fuck me.”
“Sweetheart,” I say, laughing a little. “I can fuck anyone I want. And believe me, you’re just another little girl pretending to be a woman. I wouldn’t waste my time with you. So you can stand there naked all you want, it’s not gonna help your situation. So go. Find. Some clothes.”
“I just told you—”
“They’re in the goddamned bedroom,” I say. “Your stepfather put them there.”
She licks her lips and smiles. “Well, maybe you can point me to said bedroom? Because as I’ve already explained, I don’t live here.”
Well. She’s got game. I’ll give her that. Trying to get me up in her bedroom.
“No,” she says, even though I didn’t say anything. “I’m not trying to get you up in my bedroom. I just really have no idea where it might be.”
I look up at the second floor. There are actually two staircases in the foyer. Both of them snake down from either side of the large, wide space.
Wings, I decide. This place has wings. Pretentious much?
But what did I expect? Her stepfather has the kind of money most people can’t even comprehend. He owns half of the office buildings in downtown, more properties in the upper north side than I can count and some government official even let this asshole put his name on a park.
“Up there,” I say, nodding to the second floor.
She tosses her head, making her wildly disheveled hair cover half of her face. “Do you have any idea how many bedrooms this house has?”
I don’t even try to guess. A house this size makes no sense to me.
“Twenty-one,” she says, answering her own question.
I laugh out loud. “Why the fuck do you need twenty-one bedrooms? You running an orphanage or something?”
She makes a face. “I didn’t buy this house, Mason.” She crosses her arms, maybe starting to become aware of her nakedness. Or maybe she’s just cold. “My stepfather thought he could use it to bribe me to marry his business partner’s son. And when it didn’t work, he hired you to bring me here and force me to marry him.”
“Poor you,” I say, thinking she’s probably cold. Because I can still see one nipple and it’s bunched up and hard.
“Yeah,” she says, sadness in her voice. “Poor me.”
Then she turns, chooses the staircase on the left, and begins to walk up.
I follow her. Because even though I know the security system is top-notch, there’s no telling what she’ll do.
Besides, I want to look at that handprint on her ass a little more.
It’s pretty fucking nice. And if I thought I could get away with it, I’d snap a picture and jerk off to it later. I’d make sure to snap that pic as she was lifting her leg too. Because each time she does that, I get a little rear-view glimpse of her shaved pussy.
“Nice view, isn’t it?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder.
I shrug. “Hey,” I say, refusing to be ashamed for being caught in the act. “You’re the one who wants to show it off. Don’t blame me for looking.”
The thing is… I do kinda want to fuck her. I think any man in my present situation would be thinking the same thing. Lyssa Baylor is way out of my league. Not in the one-night stand sense. I could get her to one-night-stand me for sure.
But anything more than that and yeah. She’s just one of those girls who ignores anyone who doesn’t fit neatly into her little delusional bubble.
She stops at the top and looks both ways down the hallway. “Eenie, meany, miney, moe.” Then she goes right, even though ‘moe’ landed on left.
Figures. Wild thing, right? Rebel to the end. God forbid she do anything by direction.
She saunters down the hallway, swaying her hips—probably for my benefit—then grabs the first door handle and swings it open.
“Nope,” she says. “Not that one.”
“How do you know? You didn’t even go in.”
“I know,” she says. “But feel free. Check the closet. I’ll bet you your jacket there’s no clothes in there.”
I study her for a second. Trying to decide if I should hand over my jacket or make her play the game. Clearly her nakedness is starting to have an effect. She can play tough girl all she wants but you can only be butt naked in front of a strange man for so long before it starts to bother you.
“All you had to do was ask for the jacket, Lyssa. I’d have given it to you.”
She shrugs. “This is more entertaining.”
“Well, that’s not the word I’d use. But whatever. If I was putting this whole insane plan together, I’d choose the first bedroom. So I’ve got a pretty good feeling you’ll lose the bet.”