Overwhelmed by You (Tear Asunder 2)

“Inside.” He held the rickety screen door open for me, the metal hinges making a sharp shriek at the slightest movement.

I grumbled under my breath as I stepped past him.

Surprise lifted the dread of walking into a daddy long-leg sanctuary plagued with webs and dust. Instead, I was greeted with the aroma of fresh cut flowers, lavender, and fresh bread. The hardwood floors sparkled. The small but modern kitchen had a European feel with the stained glass backsplash tiles and dark mahogany cupboards. It opened up into a living room that had a big bay window looking out onto a deck which overlooked the lake.

“Okay, not as bad as I thought.”

I shivered when he came up directly behind me, his hands resting on my hips. “Glad you semi-approve. Not that it matters if you did or didn’t.”

“Smart-ass,” I retorted.

“Mmm,” he murmured. His hands slipped away and he strode into one of the three rooms off the living area.

I could see a bed with a white duvet and soft beige throw pillows. There was a painting above the bed of a woman walking along the beach, the water coming in to glide over her feet.

“So whose place is this?” I asked, kicking off my shoes and plopping down on the bar stool at the narrow kitchen island that also doubled as a place to eat it seemed.

“A friend.”

“Well, since I know most of your friends, then I must know who it is.”

“You don’t know this one.”

Oh. “A girl?”

“Jealous?”

“No. Curious.” He took clothes from the bag then placed them in an old dresser. Ream ran his finger slowly over the butterfly tat on his right arm, the one similar to the tat he just got for me. It looked like an unconscious gesture, and I’d seen him do it before. I thought of what he’d called his sister. His little angel.

“Why do you do that?” And curiosity can’t kill the cat.

“Do what, babe?”

“Touch that tattoo all the time. The one on your upper right arm. Is it your sister?” He shut the dresser door and stood up straight watching me. I watched back. Then I grew uncomfortable under his gaze and went to explore when his voice stopped me.

“Now I have both of you on me.” That was all he said. “Come here.”

I really didn’t want to. I mean I was feeling anxious and … yeah, completely turned on and keeping my distance was a damn good idea when there was a no sex rule. Why was it that you thought of something more when you knew you couldn’t have it? “I’m going to go explore—”

“I said come here, Kat.”

“Why?”

He wasn’t smiling. He was serious and I finally realized what he meant by no arguing. Oh shit. I was so not good at following orders. It was like it set something off inside me telling me to rebel.

“Kat.” His command—and it was a command—was stern and direct. I thought about it for a couple of seconds and then got up and walked toward him.

I stopped in the doorway. Why was my breathing faster? I shifted uneasily under his intense gaze, feeling as if he was undressing me with his eyes. Shit. The ache started in my belly and then the throbbing went lower and that tightness between my legs that made me want to say fuck this and jump him … yeah, it was screaming at me to do something.

“Get ready for bed. It’s late.”

I saw my little pink makeup bag but no pajamas. “Umm, did you forget something?”

He leaned back against the dresser and crossed his arms. “No.”

“What am I supposed to sleep in? Nothing?”

He didn’t say anything.

Shit. And he wanted to skip the sex part of the weekend. Who was he kidding? “Give me one of your shirts.” I held out my hand, expecting he’d give in to my demand. Instead, he snagged my hand and pulled me into him until I was snug against his chest.

When I raised my head to glare at him, he was already looking at me and his eyes were smoldering. He cupped my chin, his thumb stroking my cheek slow and gentle like a pendulum. “No shirt. You can wear your panties to bed … if they’re sexy.”

If he hadn’t been holding my jaw, it would have dropped. Instead, he lowered his head until our lips were so close that if I puckered they’d touch. “Never clothes in bed, baby.”

I glared and then relented because it was he who’d be the one breaking his own rule. I could do this. “Fine.” I easily stepped from his arms, well, easily meaning he chose to let me go.

I started unbuttoning my blouse, taking my time making sure he could see every inch of my skin being exposed bit by bit. When I got to the last button, I let the blouse fall open and then slide down my arms to the floor.

His jaw clenched then unclenched, eyes watching, expression stoic, and yet I witnessed the swelling in his jeans. No sex rule, my ass. We were not lasting the first night. I undid my jeans and with a slow bend at my waist, I caressed my thighs with the denim as I sashayed them down and stepped out of them.

I thanked God I was wearing my turquoise lace thong with matching bra because damn I wanted to look and feel hot in the body department since my face was … well still on the mend.

I glanced back up at Ream. Big mistake. His eyes were swimming with so much desire that it swept me up and took hold of my insides and brought me into him. Damn. He hadn’t even touched me and I wanted to touch myself to stop the ache that pulsated mercilessly. I had the control. I had it and now it was slipping through my grasp like sand.

I turned around to undo my bra.

“Face me,” Ream ordered.

My bra unhooked and fell forward. I slowly turned, expecting his eyes to be on my breasts. They weren’t. They were locked on my eyes. “Even just undressing, you’re fighting the entire time to take the control. You’re so intent on being strong that you’re not letting go when you need to.” Ream stepped toward me and I was breathing so fast that my chest heaved in and out. He stopped inches away, so close that I could feel the fibers of his clothes tickling my hairs that stood at attention. “When did you get the ink, baby?”