Page 25 of House of Lies

I turn to look at Cassidy, but she still has her back to me. I guess the heat in the room finally soaked through her layers of clothing, because her coat is now hanging from my closet door.

Her uniform is tight, especially around her plump ass. Her panty line is blatant, and I can’t help but wonder what her curvy body would look like without the dress.

When I don’t reply immediately, she glances at me over her shoulder… and catches me staring at her ass.

Christ, what the fuck is wrong with me today? Why do I keep imagining sinking my fingers into her soft, plump flesh hard enough to leave dimples? Or wondering if it’s her hair or her perfume that smells so gloriously sweet and flowery?

Don’t I have an ounce of self-control?

My voice is gruff. “There’s no one else.”

“You’re not married?” She sounds surprised.

An unpleasantly familiar coldness seeps into my stomach and sits there like a chunk of cement. I need to end this line of questioning immediately. She glances back at me curiously, tucking a section of chestnut hair out of her face.

“If you’re done prying into my personal life, I have work to do.” I tell her brusquely. “And so do you.”

Chapter 10

Cassidy

My heart is pounding so hard, I’m sure Ethan can hear it. I’m so glad I didn’t interrogate him on his doorstep this morning. Even a polite inquiry about his family put up his guard.

At least now I know where his computer is.

As soon as I’m done packing away his foldable clothes and slipping hangers into those that need to be ironed later, I hurry over to the bedroom doors and try to turn the handle. It’s so damn hot in this room that my hands have become clammy.

Ethan’s arm comes past me, and I jump in fright. “Allow me.”

“I’m fine,” I say through gritted teeth, using my elbow to bat away his hand as I continue struggling with the knob.

He scents every breath I take. I’m panting, and this time it has nothing to do with the heat. My body is desperately drawing more of his scent inside me, filling me with his intoxicating pheromones.

Why the hell am I so flustered? Yes, I assumed he’d be married, and it’s a surprise finding out he’s not. That doesn’t automatically make him the most eligible bachelor of the year.

Remington’s an asshole.

And, lest I forget, guilty until proven innocent. Guilty of what, I don’t know, but that’s why I’m here. Except…I can’t think straight when he’s around. I need to get out of here so I can clear my head.

“Do I frighten you?” he rumbles behind me, close enough now that I can feel him brushing against my clothes.

“What? No!” I bleat. But my movements become even more panicked, calling me out on the lie.

Remington grabs my wrist, his strong fingers easily encircling it.

Large, powerful. How effortless it would be for him to keep me down if I tried to kick up a fuss. His touch—or maybe that thought—sends a fierce tingle through my entire body that pools deep in my belly.

I tug, but his grip is tight.

“Let me help you.”

“I don’t need your help!” I yank even harder on his hand, but it’s only when he opens his fingers that I break free. My hand slips from the knob as my arm shoots back, and my elbow connects with his hard stomach inches behind me.

“Jesus,” Remington says in a tight voice, opening the door with an angry shove.

I bolt outside, starting down the hall like he’s chasing me with a chainsaw and someone else’s face plastered over his own. When I realize what I’m doing, I force myself to stop and wait for the adrenalin to fade.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see him watching me from the doorway. He has a hand on his belly, but there’s no evidence of pain on his face. Guess it’ll take more than an elbow to the stomach to take him down.

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