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“Some might consider it a happy coincidence. Think of all the sleepovers we can have,” he says, trying to spook me.
“Just so you know, the last boy who tried to climb into my window got both of his legs broken by a baseball bat,” I warn, rather fond of the memory.
“Then whoever had the bat didn’t do a good enough job, because I would’ve aimed for his skull,” River says with a tight smile. When I look at him, I realize he’s not joking anymore.
“Come. I know you’re dying to know what my bedroom looks like,” he says as he grabs my hand.
My gaze lands on his hand holding mine, but he seems unfazed by my icy glare. “I very well expect you to be a squatter living in your own home. A mattress at best.”
He chuckles. “It’ll take you a lot longer than that to send me into bankruptcy, Tanya, but keep trying.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, hating myself for actually finding this fucker funny at times.
I can't help but stare at his back as I follow him into the house. Even dressed, I can see the outline of his muscles. River is a powerful man, and he exudes power from every pore.
The house seems only half full of furniture as he leads me through the main living space and guides me to the staircase. I find myself peeking around every corner, and when I glance up, I realize he’s looking over his shoulder at me.
“I’m still waiting on the last of my furniture to arrive,” he states.
I bite my bottom lip, trying not to laugh. “Sure, you are. Or maybe you had to sell it off for this pretty thing,” I say, lifting my wrist to indicate the watch.
“Did it work?” he asks.
I shrug. “I’ve added it to my collection with all other items mortal men who fall for my trap have given me.”
“What a mighty collection you must have, Tanya,” he says dryly, and again, I find myself biting the inside of my cheek, amused.
He stops in front of a door and pushes it open, and I see a large king-sized bed in the center of the room. He walks in and sits on the edge of the mattress and kicks off his shoes as he looks at me.
“Why are you here?” he asks as he untucks his shirt and pulls it over his head, discarding it on the floor. I can’t help but take him in. His chest is covered in tattoos as well. He has an eight-pack, and his muscles create ridges under skin. Vance and Clay are large men, both with different body types but both as equally as fit as one another. River looks more along the lines of deadly, where my men look scary. There’s a difference.
He unbuckles his belt, pulls it free, and wraps it around his knuckles. When he takes his trousers off, I’m not surprised to see he doesn’t wear any underwear.
“Anya.” He says my name, and I realize I’ve been staring like a woman in heat. That’s because I am. I’m fucking craving his touch.
River has the upper hand, and it’s usually me who has the power in these types of situations. My body is rarely ever denied. I’m not used to this lack of control, and I think he knows that. Yet, here I am, without fully understanding why. To have sex with him so I can finally get rid of him, right?
“Why are you here?” River asks again, purposely making a show of the belt in his hands. A cold chill runs down my body. I want him just to scratch this itch.
“Why are you naked?” I wave a hand at him. He looks down at his body and his semi-hard cock. I avoid licking my lips at the sight of it. At the sight of all of him. River is a fucking pain in my ass, but God was generous when he built him.
“I was going to take a shower when you suddenly pulled up,” he informs me. And I know he’s fucking lying.
“You didn’t reply to my text message,” I say as I scan his room absentmindedly. “Thought I needed to remind you that a debt is still owed.”
“I might’ve not replied but I certainly made the picture my screen saver,” River says as he flashes a roguish smile over his shoulder as he strides to the bathroom. The light is automatic and comes on when he walks in. It fills me with a strange satisfaction that I can tease him from his screen saver every day. Also, with the knowledge that he’ll shoot a man if he so much as peeks at his phone. Not that I care if anyone else sees.
He reaches into the shower and turns on the water, and I know he’s taunting me. I stand there and watch as he gets in, stepping out of my sight. I take the opportunity to look around his room more thoroughly.
I find it strange that I’m a woman who takes control and dominates every man I meet. Yet now, in River’s room, with his lack of effort, I feel stubborn still trying to make him come to me. Every man does.
I search the room and notice a photo frame on his bedside table with a picture of a child in it.
Does he have kids?
Picking it up, I walk into the bathroom and prop myself on the counter. I sit on it with legs crossed, enjoying my view as a mixture of water and soap runs down his body.
“Have you come to sing to me, Anya, or join me?”
