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Loving War(14)

By:C.M. Owens


The water shoots out, icing me down before warming up. I take my time getting the sweat and pool water to wash away. I really hate Kode Sterling right now. I might have been lonely and lost before sleeping with him, but now I’m lonely, lost, and confused.

Cursing him, I cut the shower off and wrap up in a fresh towel. After using my last clean towel to wrap my hair up in, I head out of the bathroom… and again I’m stumbling to a halt while my eyes gape in disbelief.

“You’re still here?” I groan.

The blonde-haired devil on my bed gives me a lopsided grin that has my heart betraying me with a racing rhythm. He pats the bed beside him, winking at me, and I mutter a curse before walking over to my temporary dresser. Why is he still practically naked?

“I think your room is actually better than my suite. It’s cozier.”

“Then I’ll trade with you if it will get you to leave me alone,” I mumble absently while searching for something to put on.

“You’re welcome to head up to my room. I’ll give you a five minute head start.”

I toss a glare at him over my shoulder, and head back to the bathroom to dress in a pair of skimpy shorts and a midriff-showing tank top. If he wants to play this game, then let’s play. I’ll torture him the way he’s torturing me.

After once again braiding my damp hair into twin pigtails and dressing, I head back in. When his eyes turn on me, his gaze heats, and I instantly regret the choice in wardrobe.

“Come sit down. I don’t bite, Tria. Well, that’s a lie. But you like it when I bite.”

My whole body turns about five shades of red, but I finally go to stand beside the bed.

“Why are you doing this? You know this thing between us is twisted. Possibly psychotic. You’re an asshole. And you hate me.”

I expect him to announce his master plan to use me for whatever sick reason. It’d be better than this guessing game.

His dark smile sends shivers down my spine, and he tugs my hand until I’m falling on the bed very ungracefully. I quickly shuffle around to get away from that hard bulge he is shamelessly leaving on display, and I sit down on the bed at a semi-safe distance away from him, crossing my legs.

“You hate me, too, but you still want me. So why the hell are you being such a pain in the ass about it?”

That earns him an eye-roll. “Gee, keep talking like that, and I’ll throw myself at your feet,” I mutter dryly.

He snickers softly before reaching over and running a finger down my leg. “I’m not exactly the sweet guy with Hallmark lines coming out my ass, Tria. Nothing new. But you didn’t mind it that night. Was it really just the alcohol?”

Blowing out a harsh breath, I shake my head. “I wish. It had nothing to do with alcohol. But it doesn’t mean I want it to happen again.”

That finger of his runs the line of my calf, slowly trailing down my ankle to my foot, before he runs it across the tips of my hot pink toenails.

“Why not? Just tell me what is making you so damned stubborn about this.”

Stubborn? That’s not the word I would use to describe me at all. Borderline crazy would be a better assessment, because I should not be sitting on my bed beside the one guy who has tormented me for too long.

“Fine,” I say, annoyed with him for looking so damn good while I try to regain my sanity. “If you must know, it’s because you’re still a playground bully.”

Vaguely I’m aware that those words sounded so much better in my head—where they should have stayed.

His eyes go wide in surprise before turning amused, and he stares at me, making me feel mocked before he even opens his mouth. When his lips twitch, all I want to do is take my stupid words back.

“So what are you saying, Tria? That I’m a kid in a man’s body? That if I pull your pigtails that means I like you?”

My cheeks heat because that’s not what I meant. At all. Just to make it more embarrassing, he tugs one of my braids and grins like the cocky asshole he is. I really hate that smile.

“You can’t do that stuff,” I mumble, pushing at his chest, but finding myself unable to quit touching him once my hand finds the firm lines of his flesh. I was a little too numb to fully appreciate the way he felt the last time my hands were on his body.

Every inch of his body has definition that only the perfect can possess. Those lines at his hips form that mouthwatering V that disappears behind his boxer-briefs. His golden skin has the perfect amount of tan, and his mouth is by far the sexiest mouth on any man.

He pulls up on his elbows, then tugs me down, forcing my head against a pillow before he covers my body with his.

“Can’t do what stuff, Tria? I’ll tug your pigtails some more if it makes you blush like that again.”