walks up to a cabinet beneath the pergola and opens it. She goes up on her toes, stretching out her long, sexy legs, and visions of me taking her from behind hit like a punch and nearly knock the wind out of me.
“Jackpot,” she says, and pulls out a big white towel. “At least wrap yourself in this before you freeze to death.”
“I’m not cold,” I say again.
Ignoring me, she shakes it out and our hands touch as she tries to throw it over my shoulders. Warmth, need and lust hit at the same time, and a growl crawls out of my throat as I envision my hands on her body, removing those sexy shorts and burying my mouth between her soft thighs.
“Shit,” I murmur under my breath, and put the towel around her quivering shoulders instead. I tug her to me, offering the warmth of my body and anything else she might like.
Get it together, dude.
“Roman,” she says as she swipes her tongue over her bottom lip. “What...what are you doing?”
My head dips, my lips inches from hers. I want to kiss her. Jesus, there are a lot of things I want to do with her. I breathe her in, let her sweet, flowery aroma feed the hunger building inside me.
“I’m not the one who is cold and wet,” she says with a huff.
Oh God, Roman. Don’t think about her being wet.
“You need to put the towel around you, not me,” she continues.
“Peyton,” I growl as she tries to shrug the towel off.
“What?”
“Leave it.”
“Leave what?”
“Just...stop, okay,” I say, my voice thick with lust.
“Stop what?”
“Stop talking,” I say, the push and pull between us arousing me more. “You know what will happen if you don’t.”
“I am not going to stop—” Her protest dies on her lips and my words slowly register in her brain. Yeah, that’s right, Peyton, you either shut up or I’ll shut you up.
“Roman,” she murmurs, her gaze moving over my face. A beat passes between us, and then a change comes over her. Her body relaxes, her throaty little moan letting me know exactly what she’s thinking—what she wants. Oh, hell no! She steps closer, crowding me. “What if I don’t want to stop?” she challenges.
Jesus Christ, is she really going there? She knows I can’t—won’t. I clench down on my jaw, hard enough to break bone, and work to fight the need racing through my blood. I can’t let her get the upper hand here. If I do, I just might give her what we both want.
“Aren’t you going to answer me?” She presses against me and her breath comes out a little quicker when my hard cock rubs against her stomach.
Summoning every ounce of control I have, I grip her shoulders and move her an inch back, welcoming the rush of cooler air falling over me. Her green eyes darken, turn venomous. She gives a humorless laugh and I put more distance between us before she kicks me in the shins.
“Typical Roman.”
I grip my hair and tug. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Always starting something you can’t finish,” she shoots back.
“I can finish.”
“Doesn’t seem to me that you can.” She’s throwing me a challenge and I’ll be damned if I don’t want to pick it up.
Back the hell down, dude.
“If you weren’t Cason’s kid sister—”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“He’s my best friend, which means you’re off-limits.”
She goes quiet, her gaze latched on mine. “Do you know what I like about you, Roman?”
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” she says, and a bark of laughter climbs out of my throat as I stand there staring at her back as she heads toward the stairs, an extra little shake in her sweet ass that teases my dick.
“Good,” I say.
She glances at me over her shoulders. “You like that, though, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I do,” I say, my voice a husky murmur.
“You want me to hate you.”
“I need you to hate me, Peyton. If you didn’t, I’d bend you right over that table and bury myself inside you.” She goes still, deathly still. I guess I got her attention now. “Would you hate that?” I ask.
A beat of silence, and then another. “Yes, I’d hate that,” she finally says, the big fat lie hovering in the air, taking up space between us.
“Good.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Peyton
I’D BEND YOU right over that table and bury myself inside you.
Okay, I might hate him—or not—but yeah, I seriously want him to follow through with that threat, which is probably why I spent