come to life; her curves as sweet as the smile that graces her lips. Camryn is the sinister temptress that’d cut your throat while she fucked you, not quite a smile, more a smirk the last thing you’d happily see.
“You right?” She flicks the skip rope in my direction, barely missing my face.
“What?” I shrug. “Like you haven’t run your greedy eyes over me a time or two.”
She looks embarrassed, her cheeks turning pink like a secret she doesn’t want to acknowledge. “Not my fault you insist on being half naked more often than not. It’s a lot not to look at,” she defends, her cheeks a nice shade of pink.
“I’m one hundred percent comfortable with your gawking. Feel free to look as often and as long as you like.”
“Gross,” she lies. “You’re like a giant... muscle.”
Meaning, I’ve dragged my carnivorous eyes over your body and I want to devour it… you.
“Descriptive,” I tease.
“You repulse me,” she continues, the fluster in her voice as obvious as the color in her cheeks. She’s faking a level of disgust that is almost comical.
Still, it pisses me off.
“Anyone ever told you that you turn into an ultimate bitch when you’re afraid someone is seein’ more of you than you’re comfortable with? Being attracted to someone ain’t showin’ your soul, Camryn.”
Her mouth gapes open in distress. “I am absolutely not attracted to you.”
I sigh. “Well, feeling’s mutual, baby,” I insult, stooping to her level. “Your plan to repulse the male species is a success. You’re an awful little hermit.”
An absolute fucking lie. She’s a fantasy I refuse to entertain. Her attitude alone enough to rush blood to my overeager cock.
Her tiny fists clench in offense. “I am not a hermit. I go out,” she retorts.
“You go out to buy take-out, when you don’t get it delivered. Even then, you’re usually dressed in your pajamas.”
“Being able to go into public in my pajamas is something I call winning at life.”
“Sure,” I recoil. “If you also talk to rocks. You need to get out more. Live like you’re in your thirties and not readying yourself for the grave.”
“Bite me,” she barks out.
“Be my pleasure, sweetheart.” The image popping into my head like the beginning of a wet dream I don’t fucking need. “Now, do the fucking skip jumps.”
She takes a step backward. “If you think I’m staying here with your arrogant ass, you’re mistaken. I was fucking delusional thinking you could help me. Go fuck yourself, Rocco.”
My hand flies out, grabbing hold of her wrist before I can stop myself. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I should let her go. I don’t need this fucking drama in my life. If I let her walk out, I’m done. Freed from my obligation to help her in any way.
“Let me go,” she grinds out, yanking her arm back.
I keep my hold, pulling her closer.
“You’re being ridiculous.” My teeth grind as I speak. “Your little feelings got hurt, did they?”
Thunder strikes in her eyes. Thick and nasty spikes of fury that are aimed directly at me. “Take. Your. Hands. Off. Me.”
I step into her space, our bodies now flush, my hand tightening around the delicate line of her wrist. “You throw words like daggers, not giving a flying fuck who they hit, but god-fucking-forbid you’re on the receiving end of those same sharp knives.”
Her nostrils flare.
“You can tell me I’m vicious, more evil than the fucking devil himself. You can come into my fucking home and tell me I disgust you. But I can’t do it back?”
The fight leaves her body, her eyes blinking in shame.
“You have no right to throw a tantrum for somethin’ you’ve insisted on buildin’ our relationship on. You know you’re no troll, Camryn. Don’t let what other people say affect how you think of yourself. People rarely say what they actually mean. Look in their eyes, listen to that truth.”
Sliding her wrist from my easing grasp, she straightens her spine.
“Look in my eyes. Do I think you’re a disgusting hermit? Am I repulsed by you?”
Her blue eyes bore into mine, reading what I’m silently screaming at her.
“No.”
“Exactly. Same way I know I don’t disgust you as much as you wish I did. Same way I know your eyes aren’t trackin’ my body because there’s a lot to look at. Own your feelings, Camryn. They’re the realest fucking thing we have to offer this broken world.”
She bends to pick up the discarded skipping rope. “I’ll do fifty.”
“A hundred. Then stretch it out. I’ll make us lunch.”
Her