Page 79 of All's Fair in Love & Vegas

I felt a jolt of alarm and desire simultaneously surge through me like a lightning bolt. I needed to gather myself right now. “Don’t you think you already punished me enough?” I asked tartly.

He pulled back slightly and gave me a self-deprecating half smile. “Fair point.”

Were we now joking—flirting—about what he’d done to me? I needed to take this shower and get the fuck out of here. It was as if he’d switched tactics on me and they were just as powerful and horrifying as the whip he’d held in his hand. I knew he was manipulating me, probably trying to keep his ass out of prison, but, for some reason, it was working. He was magnetically carnal, his presence as potent as any implement of torture.

I pushed on his broad chest. I needed space. He willingly stepped back, his eyes roving over my features as if they were constantly assessing where I was at and, right now, he must have read panic and resistance like a neon sign.

He moved toward the door and paused as he opened it. “I’ll come back with some clothes, so don’t be surprised if you hear the door opening.”

I tensed at the implication that he’d come in while I was showering.

“I won’t do anything.” He cocked his head, a teasing glint in his eyes.

I looked at him, my expression patently disbelieving.

He held up his hand to his heart, as if giving some solemn oath. “I promise not to do anything to you while you’re in the shower, Willa.”

I rolled my eyes, my lips tilting in an unwilling grin. “Do I get to punish you, if you disobey?”

His mouth curved into a full smile and it transformed his face into a thing of beauty. God, I was doomed. “Nope.”

With that, he walked out and left me to my shower.

I banged my head back against the wall, hoping it would smack some sense into it, then dropped my blanket and shorts. I felt the tepid water, once again grimacing at the unsatisfying temperature. In a fit of rebellion, I turned the hot water tap to make it hotter.

I stepped in, and out of habit turned to wet my hair. I immediately yelped, the hot water pelting my back was like shards of heated glass on my lacerated skin. I hurriedly whirled around and turned down the heat, my shoulders slumping when the water returned to a more tolerable temperature.

“I told you about the water. You’re lucky you’ve already been punished,” I heard a voice say from outside the shower, followed by a low chuckle. “The clothes are here by your towels.” Damn, he was quick with those freaking clothes.

“Sadist!” I hollered, annoyed that he was right about the water temperature.

“Yep,” he replied, followed by the shutting of the door.

I let out a sigh of relief that he was gone.

What the hell was I still doing here?

Chapter 9

Killian

Iwalked out of the bathroom, a smile still on my face. I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist changing the water temperature. Her little act of rebellion had my dick hardening and my hand itching to spank the disobedience right out of her. I could already see how well she responded to my dominance, how she naturally bent to my will. However, I liked this little streak of mischievousness in her. It made me desperate to correct her.

Interacting with Willa was a revelation. I’d never spent time with women outside of sex, never engaged in silly, flirty banter or waited for them to misbehave just for the opportunity to deliver some swats on the ass. Not that Willa understood fully what she was doing.

I knew I was drawn to her. The sexual chemistry had been a low hum underlying all of my interactions with her, even when I’d thought she was Lily. Knowing she wasn’t Lily allowed that banked fire to burst into flames. Now that I didn’t have to bury it or pretend the attraction didn’t exist, all I wanted to do was stoke it, indulge it, let it burn out of control. I saw how she looked at me, her eyes skating down my body, lingering on my lips. How she got soft and pliant when I touched her.

All I had to do was convince her—which I nearly botched with my shitty apology. Even though my stomach twisted with regret over the hurt and pain I, apologizing was still an awkward, uncomfortable, unfamiliar experience that I’d nearly fucked up completely. It wasn’t like she didn’t deserve an apology; she absolutely did. I just fucking hated admitting I was wrong.

Even though I wasn’t known for my ability to sweet talk women, I’d dug deep to find the words that would convince her to stay. I was driven by the twin demons of lust and vengeance. I had been willing to say anything to keep her here.

Christ, I wanted her.

I went out and grabbed a small table and some chairs and quickly set them up in the bedroom, then went to the wardrobe and grabbed what I’d need to take care of her back. My fingers, and my dick, tingled with anticipation at being able to touch her again.

There was a knock on the door and Cara opened it holding a plate of bacon, eggs and toast, her face set mutinously. “Here,” she said in a bratty tone, thrusting the plate, utensils and napkins in my direction. She knew that normally such an attitude would get a severe rebuke from me, usually over my knee, which was probably why she did it.

I’d played with Cara several times in the club, but it had never gone beyond that. She was hot and fun, but I wasn’t remotely tempted to have a relationship with her. This jealousy she was displaying was unexpected and definitely unwelcome.