His gaze happens to drift over to me. His face drops. His eyes somehow darken.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he growls.
“Carlo!” Emily gasps. “Don’t be so rude!”
Carlo ignores her and walks over to me, hands twitching at his sides, his chest heaving, his whole body alive with an energy that angers me and ignites desire within me at the same time.
“Eavesdropping?” he snaps.
Ah, here he is, Mr. Control Freak. Nice and familiar.
Even though I’m in the wrong, there’s no way I’m going to let him talk to me like that. I raise my hand to his face. “Actually, I came to say hello to Emily, but if I knew they were hosting an asshole convention here, I wouldn’t’ve bothered.”
Emily snickers, giving me a moment of satisfaction. I was right. Carlo hasn’t changed at all.
I spin on my heel as Carlo grinds his teeth back and forth, eyes burning into me. He seems ashamed, like me catching him being anything other than a thoroughbred jerk is a sin or something.
I slam my hand too hard on the elevator button, riding it down, pressing the heels of my hands into the sides of my head to try and drive that dream from last night deep into my subconscious where it can’t bother me anymore.
It’s stupid to believe that Carlo De Maggio is anybody except who he’s always been.
I’ve been in my room for about five minutes—pacing around, cursing under my breath—when the door swings open. Carlo fills the frame, broad shoulders pushed back like he’s ready for war, a subtle shadow of beard across his cheeks. He looks rugged. It suits him.
“If I catch you eavesdropping again—”
“You’ll lock me up, yeah, yeah. How fucking predictable.”
It’s like I’ve struck a chord. It moves through him: foot tapping, leg twitching, torso shifting, fingers fidgeting, and, finally, mouth twisting. “Hazel,” he begins. “You have no right—”
“No right?” I stalk over to him. He smells like cologne and freshly laundered clothes and, annoyingly, that just-Carlo scent. “Do you really want to go there? Because the last time I checked, eavesdropping is not a crime. But would you like to know what is a crime? Kidnapping, imprisonment—”
He grabs my shoulders, spins me, shoves me up against the wall. His body presses close to mine. His dick is hard right now. We’re arguing and his cock is a steel pole bent sideways in his trousers, a hard definition against my belly.
“You’re disgusting,” I hiss, my center aching, my heart thumping, my anger flaring. “Dis. Gust. Ing.”
“I mean it,” he snarls. “These four walls. Get used to them.”
“If you try that, I’ll never stop. I’ll burn this whole fucking house down if that’s what it takes.”
He leans close to me. His breath caresses me, just like in my dream, but it’s hotter now. It shudders out from his rumbling chest. I can see right into the depths of his eyes, like lakes with deep green islands in the middle.
“Nobody, and I mean nobody, gets away with talking to me how you are now.”
I grab his collar, standing on my tiptoes. Our noses touch. My nipples are frustratingly hard. My thighs ache: from the run, I tell myself. “Do something about it then,” I sneer. “Or shut the hell up. But if you think I’m going to be afraid of you, you’ve got another thing coming.”
His hand darts up to my hair, grabbing a bunch. The tug on my scalp doesn’t hurt as much as it should. It’s almost gentle. I let out a sighing moan before I think to hide it from him. He notices it, though. He notices everything.
“You have no idea the game you’re playing.”
My neck is bent back like he’s a vampire and I’m offering myself to him. I feel my pulse, too alive in my throat, shifting. I want him. I hate him. I need him. He kneels down, and then grinds his bulge up so that it crushes against the shorts, my panties, my pussy.
“You’re sick,” I gasp. “Are you going to force yourself on me? Is that it? Typical Carlo, taking whatever he wants.”
He steps back, shaking his head. “You’re fucking crazy.”
“That makes two of us.”
Mere inches separate us. He bites his lip, as though trying to contain himself. I find myself arching my back, tempting him. I don’t know why. God, his cock was so hard, so fucking hard. But no—I can’t, not after the way he spoke to me. I’m not going to reward him for that.