Page 83 of A Deal with the Bossy Devil

His hand slid to the back of my head, fisting a handful of my hair. “So fucking soft,” he praised. And then slowly, and with excruciating gentleness, he pulled my head back until my mouth was level with his as he peered down at me. His dark eyes were unrecognizable, they were so glazed over.

“Such a pretty girl.”

I shivered when the heat of his molten whiskey breath grazed my lips. We both felt it.

A small part of me knew that I should have wanted to stop whatever the hell was currently happening.

Ishould havewanted to.

I didn’t.

“The things I would do to those plush lips if you were attracted to me.” He was so,soclose. Just a few more millimeters and… “You can’t even begin to imagine. I’d devour you, Sanchez.”

My eyelids kept fluttering, wanting to close. I couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“And then I’d properly punish you for everything you’ve done. The investment; the glitter; the insults. For constantly running that smart, bratty little mouth of yours.” His grip on my hair tightened a touch. “I’d punish you for being so fucking pretty. For making me want you like this, against my better judgment—against my will.”

I felt dizzy.

His scent, his breath, his words. They were all starting to mix and mash with the alcohol, making my head spin.

“It’s too bad that we have no chemistry.” His lips brushed the corner of my mouth and my breath snagged, my eyes shuttering closed. I tilted my head, feeling drunk off the sweet air we were sharing.

And then…

He let me go.

The absence of heat was what hit me first. It sent an unpleasant shiver down my body that made me want to reach for it again. My eyes popped open. I blinked.

Adrien stood and rounded the patio table, putting way too much distance between our bodies.

“All right, you win,” he said casually, his voice snapping back into its normal octave, as though the last few minutes had been a very vivid figment of my imagination.

The only evidence suggesting otherwise was the very large and prominent bulge in Adrien’s slacks, which he made no effort to disguise or hide.

I was very aware of how embarrassingly labored my breathing had become, and I was even more aware of how many inappropriate seconds I’d been gawking at—

“You’re staring again.”

My gaze darted up to his as my cheeks colored. His smile was as dimpled and arrogant as ever, though his eyes were a vividly charred black.

“Um…” I started, my tongue failing to reconnect to my brain. “What.”

“You won,” Adrien said. “The food arrived, and you weren’t puddled on my lap so… well done. I’ll reduce Alba’s workload and all that other stuff.”

I blinked at him slowly.

He cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m pretty beat so… I’ll see you upstairs. Enjoy the pizza.”

And then he turned around and left.

Just like that.

What.

The.

Hell.

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