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I raised an eyebrow at him incredulously. “And what’s that?”
He sits on the bed next to me and strokes one of his big fingers down my cheek. His touch burns me, and my breath hitches, but I hold his eyes fearlessly. They’re a deep chocolate swirled with caramel, like the most decadent dessert.
My eyes trail down over his strong jawline that’s lined with stubble. Every time I’ve seen him—even first thing in the morning—he has a hint of a shadow on his jawline like he has so much testosterone it laughs at his attempt to shave.
The hair on his head is dark and thick. His lips are unfairly sensuous, lush, and full. He's wearing a black T-shirt that fits him like a second skin. Muscles burst out from underneath the short sleeves that can’t contain them. My eyes flick over the tattoos trailing down his arms. I know that they cover his chest and back too from the times I've seen him without his shirt. The image of sweat rolling over the cords of his muscles is permanently burned into my brain.
I realize my gaze has been traveling over him, and I snap my eyes back to his caramel ones that are like melted chocolate. They're heated as they capture mine and he pronounces softly, “I know deep down you want me too.”
My breath hitches again at his admission that he wants me. “I know your daddy warned you away from me, and I know you kept sneaking out to talk to me anyway.” His lip quirks up into a cocky half-grin before he adds softly, “You’re just as drawn to me as I am to you, honey.”
I open my mouth to deny it but end up blushing instead. I can't deny what he says. It's all true.
“You wouldn't go out with me,” he goes on, “so I took matters into my own hands.”
I snort. “So, kidnapping is the next step for you when a woman says no?”
His eyes darken, and his jawline hardens. “You didn't say no because you don't want me. You said no because you're afraid of disobeying your parents and rocking your perfect little world. If I'm wrong,” he splays his hands out, “if I've misread the situation, then tell me here and now. I've never been one to force a woman to do anything, and I won't force you. If I've been wrong about this entire thing, and you want absolutely nothing to do with me, say the word now, and I’ll release you.”
I bite my lip. He’s staring down at me stoically. Ajax drugged me and took me from my bed in the middle of the night, yet he’s acting offended when I accuse him of what he did—kidnapping.
I know what I should do. I know what the smart thing to do is. I should deny my attraction to him. I should say whatever it takes for him to let me go.
But…I'd be lying. And the look in his eyes lets me know he knows that too.
So, I press my lips into a stubborn line and look down.
I feel his blunt finger under my chin. He tilts my face up and forces me to meet his eyes again. The look in his eyes is possessive as he trails a thumb over my lower lip and then gently strokes it across my cheek.
He lowers his face until his lips are so close to mine that I can practically feel them skating over them as he whispers, “That's what I thought.”
