His cock ached. A desperate need drove him to know her better.
Her room was feminine but not girly. The furniture was white wicker. Soft. Dainty. It seemed in contrast to her personality, which came across and brusque, angry, defiant.
And yet her sheets and comforter were white with lace edges. Her curtains matched—thin, white, delicate material that belied its owner.
On her desk sat a laptop and a few more photos of herself. None had pictures of friends, he noted.
A screech made him whip his head around.
“What are you doing?” Kenzie stood in the bathroom doorway. She had one towel wrapped around her head and another around her body. She was covered more now than she had been when she’d answered the front door.
“Sorry. I was snooping on you a bit. I just wanted to see your space.” He glanced around. “You’re very feminine.”
“I am a girl,” she protested. “Did you not notice?”
He let his gaze land on her frame again, even though it was excruciating thinking about her naked under that towel. “Oh, baby, I noticed. I just wasn’t sure you did.”
Could I be any snarkier? It made her flinch every time he teased her. And he just couldn’t stop himself. The torment just went on and on. Any time now, she was going to slap him. He figured he did it because it got a rise out of her. And even an angry Kenzie was better than a sulky Kenzie.
She stomped through the room toward the closet and disappeared inside.
“Don’t get dressed on my account,” he continued, biting his tongue afterward and wondering when she was going to throw a shoe at his head.
“Ha ha.” Her muffled voice made him smile.
He was surprised to find her still not dressed when she walked back out. She held the towel around her body as if it was a life preserver and she was floating in the middle of the ocean. “You are a determined son of a bitch, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you always get what you want?” She didn’t look at him, but headed for a tall dresser. She opened a drawer and grabbed a bra and panties. She didn’t even try to hide them when she turned toward him. The lingerie dangled from her fingers.
“Definitely not,” he responded, staring at the scraps of pale pink lace. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and had to restrain himself from adjusting his dick.
“Might want to get used to that.” She waltzed past him again and disappeared into the closet.
He exhaled and squirmed in his spot. Why had he thought coming into her room was a good idea? The woman was teasing him. No, she was testing him. She wanted to see if he would attack her, mentally or physically? He would not. Obviously she had some serious hang-ups with men and their aggressiveness. He would not disappoint her. Whatever happened between them, it would be on her terms or not at all. That was clear. If he did anything to ruin that, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.
When she emerged a few minutes later, she was dressed. Shorts. Tight tank top. Sandals.
He stifled another groan. Her legs were perfection. She was tiny but muscular. Her skin was darker than it should be for this early in the spring. She must spend a lot of time outside. Maybe at the YMCA?
Her hair hung in a tangled mess down her back, still damp.
A buzz on the desktop made him glance in that direction. She grabbed her cell, peeked at the text, and tossed it back down without saying a word.
He waited. For what he didn’t know, but whatever was going to happen was now going to be dictated by his nervous mate.
Her next move shocked him. She stomped across the room and flung a suitcase on the bed, letting it flop open. As though he weren’t even in the house, she stuffed it with a seemingly random assortment of items—shorts, jeans, Tshirts, sweaters. She grabbed a handful of the groan-worthy panties and bras from the delicates drawer and tossed them inside. “Will it be cold at night?”
He couldn’t respond. He sat frozen, his mouth stuck. Finally he nodded. She’s going with me. Hallelujah. He didn’t want to break the spell and ruin the moment, so he remained still and silent.
Sandals. Shoes. Socks.
She strode back to the bathroom, and he listened to her banging around for a while. He held his breath. His mind didn’t fully understand what was happening. His heart beat frantically. She’s really going with me.
She returned with a toiletry bag and tossed it in the suitcase. Her hair was combed. Her curls were springing to life as they dried. He loved her natural beauty. She didn’t even have makeup on. She didn’t need it. She was so pure. He vowed never to destroy that about her.
The entire process had taken maybe ten minutes until she zipped the luggage, the sound ringing resolutely in the room.