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“You’ll catch up.”
“Catch me up.”
He shot me a disinterested look, before sliding the plate onto the rack. “Nah. That would require speaking to you, which is low on my to-do list.”
I was livid. Livid because we were both about to occupy the same town. Because my stomach still felt funny around him, and my stomach never felt funny. Unless I had kidney beans. Which I knew better than to eat (other than that airplane incident). But mostly because being next to him made my eye tic less prominent for some reason.
I stood there, watching him being sexy and helpful and sarcastic, and just couldn’t take it. He had no right being all those things under my roof. In my house. It was time to assert power and control over the situation. “Please leave,” I said one more time.
“Please shut up.” He picked up another plate to clean.
I jumped on his back, lacing both my legs over his waist from behind, seizing his neck in a chokehold.
That, at least, was the plan. But I had miscalculated it gravely. Because his huge, muscular shoulders got in the way of choking him.
Embarrassingly, even as I was wrapped around him, he continued doing the dishes, like a fly had just landed on his back, as opposed to an entire human. His whole body was stone-hard, warm, and delicious. “Go away!” I screeched into his ear. “You’re unwelcome here.”
“Anyone ever told you that you sound like the ignorant, angry townsfolk in a Disney movie?”
“Don’t patronize me.” I squeezed my fingers around his neck—which was the width of an ancient oak tree—grunting from the physical effort. “Leave,” I commanded.
When my pleas didn’t achieve the desired effect, I began poking at his eyes with my fingers.
Now that made him stop. Probably because I got his eyeball once or twice.
“Cut it out.” He turned off the tap and shoved the clean plate into the rack, trying to swat my hands away from his face. Soap bubbles landed on the tips of our noses and eyes. “What are you? Two?”
“Twenty-three.” And he was twenty-seven. Birthday was May sixteenth. I remembered because he had total Taurus vibes. He clasped my wrists, prying me away as he staggered back from the kitchen sink. Ha. Being a stage-five clinger had its advantages. He couldn’t get rid of me.
Row reversed all the way to the wall, where he plastered my back against it, prying my arms off. I clung tighter, octopusing around his body.
“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he warned solemnly.
“Newsflash, you already did.” I knotted my legs over his torso from behind. “When we had sex.”
“You asked me to have sex with you.” He slid us both down to the floor, where he leaned his back onto my body, then flipped himself over, so we were missionary style, him on top of me. “You came on to me.”
“I was drunk!” I lied, swinging my fists toward his face.
He dodged me effortlessly, hemming me in between those Thor arms and the floor. “No, you weren’t.” His lips thinned, and he looked genuinely pissed off now. “You didn’t have more than one drink in you that night. I know you drunk. I know you sober. I know you in every fucking state. Besides, I thought you didn’t want—what was it again?” He looked up, squinting as he tried to remember that night. “A broccoli-haired trust fund baby who makes experimental techno music to take your V-card.”
“I was young and impressionable.” I writhed beneath him, twisting and thrusting, our bodies touching everywhere. My heart hammered and not from fear for a change. “Why’d you listen to me?”
“Because you were a willing woman of legal age, and I was twenty-three with a pulse.”
I wormed to the right, attempting to roll under him, but he was quicker. He pinned me to the wooden planks by thrusting his nether region to trap my legs against the floor, and just like that, I came sex-to-sex with his massive erection. He bracketed me between his thighs and nailed my wrists together above my head. My nipples brushed his chest each time I panted.
My eyes narrowed. “Let me go.”
His gaze dropped to my lips. “Been trying to do that all afternoon, and you keep coming back.”
“Sounds about right,” I bit back. “It’s the only way I come with you.”
“Baby.” He released a slow, taunting smirk that made me melt into a puddle, constricting his grip on my wrists a smidge. “Just say the word and I’ll destroy your pussy and your chance of ever coming with any other man.”
Joke’s on you. No one other than my Magic Wand has ever made me come.
“I’m serious, Row. If you don’t let me go right now, I’m going to do something really awful.”
