“If you let me ice your ankle, I’ll let you get away with wearing underwear to bed. One night only. If you keep fighting me, I’ll strip you, tie you, and ice your ankle all the same.” He released my arms and backed away. “Your choice.”
I sat up. He’d cornered me. I was tired and hurt, with no chance of fighting him off if he made good on his threat. “Underwear and a t-shirt.”
He ran a hand through his dark hair. “My t-shirt.”
“Underwear and your t-shirt?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
This was the second deal with the devil I’d made. How many more before he owned my soul? “Agreed.”
“Take your pants off.” He retrieved the ice and peas as I shucked my jeans onto the floor.
I pulled my shirt down to cover my panties.
“I’ve seen all of you.” He hit the floor at my feet and took my ankle in his hands again.
“Doesn’t mean you have a right to see any more of it.”
“I have every right.” He pressed the peas to my skin. “How’s that?”
“Cold.”
“Good.”
“And you don’t have every right.” I couldn’t let it go.
“Does it make you feel better that you have every right to me, as well?” He looked up at me, his eyes guileless.
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
I scoffed. “If that’s true, then strip.”
He balanced the peas on my ankle and stood. His fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt. He whipped it off and let it fall to the floor. He pulled his white undershirt off, giving me a front row view of his abs and the trail of dark hair leading into his pants.
When his hands went to the button of his jeans, I balked. “Wait.”
He paused. “It’s yours if you want it.” The innuendo was heavy in his voice, and it sank deep inside me, landing between my thighs.
I fidgeted, and the peas dropped to the floor with a thwop. “I don’t.”
“If you say so.” He dropped to his knee again and repositioned the peas. “I’ll get a sport bandage to keep this in place and a t-shirt for you to wear. Be right back.”
I watched him disappear into the bathroom, his broad shoulders flexing beneath perfectly smooth skin.
“Oh, by the way.” His voice floated back to me. “You missed the perfect chance to fork me when I was leaning down to see about your ankle.”
Damn him.
18
Sebastian
Her golden strands tickled along my arm, each sweet exhale from her lips breathing new life into me.
She’d perched along the edge of the bed at the start of the night, refusing to succumb to her fatigue. Eventually, though, her body had given up and fallen into a deep sleep. Over the course of the night, I’d moved closer to her, invading her space and watching her chest rise and fall beneath the blanket. It was torture to keep my hands off her, but I managed it…barely. My self-control was hanging by a thread by the time the sun peeked through the windows, giving the room a warm glow despite the dropping temperatures outside.
I risked running my fingers along her smooth brow, pushing some stray strands from her face. She sighed and rolled toward me, her eyes still closed. Her palm rested on my bicep, her forehead pressing against my shoulder.
My body heated—her touch was like a shot of adrenaline, waking up every part of me until I was aware of her every movement, no matter how slight. Her slow pulse was like a lullaby, each beat of her heart an even sweeter note than the last. But I couldn’t sleep when what I wanted was so close.
Slowly, I rolled to my side so that we were facing each other. Her eyes moved behind her pale lids, then stopped. Taking a deep breath, she settled against me, her lips grazing my chest and her smooth knee pressing against my thigh. Her sweet scent tantalized me, silently urged me to touch her, to take what I wanted. But that was a sure way to fuck this whole thing up. She would give me everything she had, but only after I’d earned her trust. Given the fact that I’d imprisoned her, trust would be hard to come by.
All my logical calculations were spot on, my hypothesis beyond reasonable. But none of these considerations sated my need to feel her. Moving as gently as possible, I eased my hand beneath the blanket until I made contact with the thin t-shirt material along her waist. She was warm, and I could only imagine how heated her skin would turn beneath my hand. Oh fuck. Or my mouth.
Sliding my hand lower, I stilled when my palm met her soft skin where the t-shirt had ridden up. Just that little bit of contact sent my mind spinning, and my cock pointed at her like a dog on a fox’s scent. Neither it nor I would be satisfied this morning. Not by her, anyway. It didn’t stop me from moving my hand lower, the waistline of her smooth panties teasing me. I knew what lay beneath, the delicious parts of her that I’d yet to taste. My mouth watered at the thought, but I kept my hand in place.