I start to peel them off before I think about the alternatives: my clothes from days ago, or the towel.
After that, it’s a pretty easy pill to swallow.
I’m still trying to stretch the shirt out a little as I pad back down the stairs into the living room. Immediately, I can feel his eyes on me, burning right into me and devouring me.
I swallow. I know that look.
It’s hungry.
“What,” I mutter, frowning.
“Apparently you’re a size bigger.”
My jaw drops. “Wow, you know exactly what to say to a girl to make her-”
“No, I meant you’re a size bigger than Nora from when she was twelve. Relax.”
I cross my arms over my chest and head the rest of the way down the stairs, grabbing a blanket from the back of the lazy-boy chair in the corner and draping it around myself. Connor hands me a glass of whiskey, and I snatch it from him before dropping down into the easy chair.
He smirks. “Pouting about the shirt?”
“No, I just don’t need to stoop to your level.”
“My level?”
“Being gross and filthy.”
“I think you like it when I’m gross and filthy.”
“Well, you’re wrong.”
Immediately, I hate the thoughts I had about his sexy roughness and his masculine dominance back in the shower.
“Says the girl that was drooling for my cock earlier.”
My mouth flies open. “You’ve got some nerve!”
“Why fight it?”
“Excuse me?”
“Why pretend I’m not right?”
My face burns hot as I glare at him.
The truth is, I don’t know. I don’t know why I fight it, maybe because I feel like I should. Maybe because I feel like giving in and saying yes to the wicked desire he brings out in me is letting go of myself completely and fulfilling this Stockholm syndrome prophesy.
“Princess, we both know that uptight, prudish, good-girl pussy is dripping for me right now.”
Something sizzles inside of me. Something burns hot like fire, something I want to squash down but know I can’t.
“It is not,” I say quietly.
“Prove it.”
I swallow. “You’d love that wouldn’t you.”
“I would.”
He says it evenly, his voice edged in steel. I rake my teeth over my lip, eyeing him right back.
“Show me.”
His eyes burn into mine from across the room, and I quickly take a sip of my drink.
“No.”
His eyes flash fire.
“I said show me,” he growls.
Something pulses inside of me, like this fire sparking to life and quickly consuming everything it touches.
Because I love the crudeness. I melt at the way he commands. And I start to get very hot in places I shouldn’t at how freaking unbelievably cocky and self-assured he is to even say this stuff to me.
“Why should I?”
“Because I know you want to. Because I know you’re dying to see how far you can go with that bad girl facade you like to put up.”
I purse my lips, feeling the fire raging inside of me - feeling the telltale wetness bloom hot between my legs.
“Facade, huh?”
“Then prove me wrong.” His face smirks at me – supremely confident and infuriatingly self-assured.
I take another big gulp of whiskey, letting it burn.
I can’t believe I’m going to do this. I can’t believe how much I want to do this. Something about him commands me and makes me want to say yes to this.
No matter how wrong it is.
Slowly, I reach under the blanket, hook my thumbs into the waist of the shorts, and pull them down. I bite my lip as I slip them over my ankles, all under the blanket, before I slowly pull them out.
Connor cocks a brow, and when I fling them across the room at him, he grins.
“Now show me.”
“You first.”
I don’t know how it comes to my mouth, but there it is, tumbling out.
Connor grins. “Well, well, well.”
I bite my lip, not trusting myself to say another thing.
His hands go to his belt, and I swallow thickly, my eyes glued to his lap. He undoes the buckle, looking right at me, and pops the button on his dark jeans. I swallow as he tugs on the zipper, my breath coming heavier and more labored with every tug.
He reaches in, and I actually gasp as he slowly pulls it out.
Jesus Christ, he’s big.
His hand wraps around his cock, making it jump and pulse as he slowly strokes it from base to tip. I take a shaky breath, and I look up to meet his eyes, seeing them spark as they glare right into me.
“Now show me.”
There’s no resistance this time. I’m just panting and nodding.
And so fucking wet for him.
Slowly, I move the blanket off of my lap, shivering as his eyes drink me in. His gaze dips over me, over the too-tight t-shirt hugging my breasts, my nipples poking through obscenely. Over my bare mid-drift, down lower.