Page 54 of Watched

“Looking for something?” he taunts, now leaning against the door frame with that condescending grin.

“My sisters are here.”

He shrugs. “I didn’t wake them. I even turned off the television.”

I step eye to eye with him. “I don’t want you—” He grips my hard dick painfully, making me eat my words.

One kiss. That’s all it takes for him to get me hard. It’s embarrassing, and I loathe that he has this effect on me.

His eyes narrow. “I swear to God, this better be because of me.”

I grip his wrist. “I was having a nice dream, actually.”

His hand moves so quickly to my neck, I startle, the temporary stillness allowing him to shove me back against the opposite door frame. I reach out, wrapping my hand around his throat. His warm, damp skin slides beneath my squeezing fingers.

Feeling the pulse in my neck, I taunt, “About Connor.”

He snarls.

Idiot, Rome. Why taunt this bloody twat?

His breath fans my lips, and I instinctively tighten my grip.

“Tell me you’re lying,” he whispers so quietly, I barely make out his words through the blood thudding in my ears. “Or he won’t live to see morning.” I try to tell myself he wouldn’t, but the enraged darkness in his eyes confirms he’s not lying. I shake my head. “I said. Tell. Me.”

“I’m lying,” I rasp. His hand unwraps one finger at a time and I let mine fall, sucking in a deep breath. “I want my phone.”

He grips his groin. “Come get it.”

“Are you serious? You really are a prick.”

“Prick,” he mocks, stepping into the bathroom and turning on the light. “It sounds cute when you say it.”

Reaching back, he pulls the black shirt over his head, revealing his large, toned chest, the veins on his biceps and forearms flowing to the ones protruding on his hands. They move to undo his belt, and I drop my gaze to the floor as shame rolls through my stomach.

“Don’t do that,” he snaps.

“What?”

“Act like you don’t like what you see because your parents have made you feel like shit for finding men attractive.”

“Give. Me. My. Phone.”

I dart my gaze past his hard dick to his eyes that crease with playful lines when I snatch my phone.

“Call the police. There’s an undercover just down the street,” he chuckles, walking across the room to start the shower.

“Why did something…” I trail off when that patronising smirk emerges. They’re paid by him; I call the police, and they’ll come to the door, only to be shooed away by him.

Bloody wanker.

No wonder I’ve felt eyes on me since he left. If it’s not his father keeping tabs on me, it’s someone else.

Sliding my phone into my pocket, I narrow my eyes and fold my arms over my chest. “What exactly were you doing while you were gone?”

“Why?” His ass flexes as he steps under the running water, hands raking back his wet hair. “Were you worried?”

I try to appear unfazed by the toned muscles of his body and lift my gaze back to his as he turns to face me. “You were just gone a while. Is Alexa okay?”