“I said I’m going back to your clubhouse.” Cooper gave me a crooked smile. He started toward the door, calling back over his shoulder. “Want me to say hello for you?”
“Wait.” I lurched toward him, my fingers wrapping around his muscled forearm.
He froze, looking down at my grasp on him. Without looking directly at me, his eyes told me touching was off limits.
As if I’d been shocked, I jerked my hand away, but it didn’t divert my reasoning. “Why did you change your mind? Why help me?”
He didn’t answer right away, forcing my stomach to knot. Maybe he hadn’t helped me. Maybe he’d placed me right where he wanted me. Ripe for the picking.
Or killing.
“Well, I couldn’t just leave you there.”
His answer gave nothing away. I didn’t know how to respond and watched him walk down the hall. “Are you just going to leave me here alone?”
The door at the end of the hall slammed shut.
“I’ll go through your underwear drawer!”
Chapter Three
Oh, boy. My fingertips brushed over a pair of gray cotton briefs. I’d taken a pair just like these off him last night. Only black. With my teeth. The scent of peppermint sent tingles down my spine. My favorite scent and partly the reason I’d stayed overnight during our brief time together.
The safe house turned out to be void of furniture, aside from the bed and dresser in the bedroom, and highly wired with audio/visual equipment. Even now a camera blinked at me from high in the corner of the room. I made a show of pulling his underwear out, running my fingers over the fabric, smelling it. I shot a smile toward Big Brother. “I hope you weren’t planning on leaving me here for long. I tend to get nosy.”
The camera merely stared at me, no signs I’d been heard.
I hadn’t exactly planned on hiding out in a dump, with a rival of my club/my one-night stand, but I was alive.
Thanks to Cooper.
A scoff rushed past my lips when I remembered the last thing he’d said before I blacked out.
What was I supposed to do?
In Column A, he’d given my club my location. Presumably for a reward of some type. But bringing me here? Keeping an eye on me? Those actions didn’t correspond to someone looking for a reward, and went straight into Column B.
I shoved his underwear back in the drawer and pushed it shut in frustration. Glaring at the camera to my left, I stuck my tongue out like a child. Men.
“Why can’t you just be the simple jackasses you’re supposed to be?” I asked the camera.
No response.
I hoped he’d see my little show of going through his things later. He’d told me not to leave the house, but I had every intention of running this show. This was my club we were dealing with, and my life. If Cooper Nolan thought he could lock me away to confront later, he had another think coming.
I twisted around and stalked toward the bed. The oversized sweats hung off my hips uncomfortably, catching beneath my feet with every step.
I wanted to scream.
I’d never been a fan of staying indoors all day. Cabin Fever. That’s what they called it. Anxiety swam beneath my skin. Any second now, I’d break down. I could feel the walls closing in, the air suffocating me slowly. I closed my eyes and lay back on the bed. I just had to breathe. With nothing to do in this Godforsaken house, I needed to keep my thoughts preoccupied. I checked my nose again. Just after a couple hours the pain seemed to have diminished ten times. Still sore, but I didn’t feel like crying when I touched it.
The pillows were drenched in musk. Cooper’s. It seemed I’d be haunted by his scent everywhere I went. Once again, I was reminded of our brief performance together. He’d smelled just like that: sweat, cinnamon, and peppermint. I wondered absently how often he stayed here, but the thought didn’t last long.
I remembered the way his calloused fingers traced lines up the insides of my right thigh, how his tongue followed the trail he’d created. All the way to my core.
A scuffling noise brought me back to reality.
My eyes shot open. I barely registered the fact my hand had made it beneath the borrowed sweatpants when I caught sight of Cooper in the doorway. I bolted upright so fast, black spots floated in front of me. “That was fast.”
I fought for control over my breathing, but the heat in my face only made it harder.
He stood motionless, a smile plastered on his smug face.
Ass.
“Please,”—he motioned toward me—“continue.”
I took a deep breath to hold back the retort telling him exactly what’d I’d rather do. It consisted of that alarm clock on the nightstand meeting his face, but I kept it to myself. “Anything new?”