Page 9 of Off-Limits Bad Boy

“Come on, admit it,” I say, loving the way she prepares to verbally spar with me. “You're enjoying this just a tiny bit.”

“Enjoying it?” Emma lets out a short, sharp sigh that almost sounds like incredulous laughter. “You must be delusional.”

“Maybe.” We both know the truth, and I want her to know I’m onto her. Of course, this doesn’t bode well for my plan to keep her hating me, but I already have multiple ways of stoking that fire.

Her gaze meets mine again, lingering longer than necessary, before scanning the room and tracing the door as if she’ll see a way out. “You're lucky I don't have frostbite, Kade Lawson, or else you'd be in so much trouble right now.”

“Trouble's my middle name.”

She lets out an annoyed groan. “How original.”

I watch a shiver run through her despite the bravado in her voice.

“But, for the record, I'd never let you get frostbite.”

She glares at me. “Can you please just find a way out of here?”

“Thought you'd never ask.” I push away from the door and stand up tall.

Her gaze tracks every move I make, an air of frustration filling the space around her.

I reach out, fingers deftly sliding along the cold metal until they find the hidden latch. A simple flick of the wrist, and the click echoes through the frigid air.

We both watch as the door swings open with ease.

Her silence is almost unnerving.

“Alex told me how to release it in case I ever got stuck down here,” I say nonchalantly, shrugging as if it it’s nothing. But her eyes... they flare with fury, and I watch her fists ball up at her sides.

“And you didn't tell me... why?” The words slice through the space between us, her heated tone warning me of danger.

She’s mad.

But there is something about the spark in her eyes that makes my heart pound harder. It is... cute, her anger. Dangerous, but cute. Like a rabid trash panda, or a tiny kitten hissing, claws out.

“You never asked, technically.” Even as I point this fact out in an even tone, careful to keep my features innocent, I sense her going nuclear and prepare for the fallout.

Her brows knit together, her lips pinched tight. “I asked you to help make a plan.”

“True.” I nod my head, as if I’m agreeing with her. “But making a plan and getting out of here aren't the same thing.” The corners of my mouth fight to lift, but I force my expression to stay neutral.

The air around us isn’t just cold anymore. There is heat there, anger, yes, but something more—something I can't quite place.

Emma's sigh of frustration cuts through the chill, leaving a plume of mist in the air as she storms out of the walk-in.

Her strides are purposeful, each step punctuated with annoyance that seems to radiate off her like mist over a lake. I can't help but follow, my gaze involuntarily dropping to the sway of her hips, the gentle curve of her backside, accentuated by the lighting in the club.

“Kade,” she says, whirling around so fast I’m caught off guard.

And that’s not all she caught. As I lift my gaze to her, I realize I’m busted. She knew my eyes were glued where they shouldn't have been.

The corner of her mouth twitches, and I know I’m skating on thin ice. But damn if she doesn't look good when she is fired up and angry.

“Enjoying the view?” Her short, sarcastic words leave no doubt she caught me and knew exactly what I was up to, and her sky-blue eyes seem almost angry. Sheesh. Can’t a guy even enjoy a nice ass in peace?

“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” I say, letting a roguish smile cross my lips as my unapologetic tone makes it clear I don’t feel bad for checking her out. Let her think I’m a pig. That’ll make it easier for her to keep hating me. Because I’m slipping.

She’s glaring at me still, and I keep smiling. Her feistiness has always been a draw for me, even when it is directed at me and posing a clear and obvious danger to my health and wellbeing.

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