He’s not giving me much to work with, but at least he’s talking to me without trying to be the world’s biggest dick. Progress.
“It’s really beautiful.” I turn to look around the garden once more, but when I face him again, his gaze is roaming my body.
My cheeks heat, and I resist the urge to press my thighs together.
What would it be like to sleep with a man like Obsidian? I’ve only ever been with guys around my own age. Something tells me that being with Obsidian would be an experience that’s worlds away from any I’ve had. No part of me can picture him making love or being gentle in bed. He probably fucks all his partners like an animal exerting his dominance.
I stifle a groan at that thought.
He straightens on the bench and leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “It pales in comparison to you.”
My eyes widen, and my breath picks up. It’s the first compliment he’s given me, and the sexual tension goes into overdrive. Does he mean it? Is he setting me up for some cruel joke so he can laugh at me later?
“You’ve got great legs.” His knuckles skim along the side of my leg, coming to rest on my hip, under my T-shirt.
I suck in a breath, knowing I should back away but somehow unable to.
He waits for my reaction, fixated on me. When I don’t move, his eyes glitter, knowing I decided not to move, and he squeezes my hip. The heat of his skin on mine spreads through my body like a spiderweb.
“They’re distracting when you wear a skirt or a dress.” His voice is as rough as the stone beneath my feet.
“Is that why you’re such an asshole to me?” The words slip out of my mouth.
A deep chuckle leaves his lips. “No, that’s just because my brothers think I need a babysitter, and you were chosen for the job. It’s nothing personal.”
I’d gathered as much, but it still doesn’t mean it’s easy to set aside.
He moves the hand on my hip, sliding it around to my back and over the globe of my ass. He squeezes and groans. “Fuck, this ass is distracting as fuck too.”
I don’t dare move, afraid to break the spell, loving the feel of his hands on me.
But then I remember what I’m here to do, and when his hand slides again, his fingers coming close to the crack of my ass, I abruptly step back.
Anger flashes across his face, and his gaze meets mine.
“I should go.” I don’t wait for him to say anything as I scurry toward the iron gate I came through, all the while attempting to hold my T-shirt down enough that it covers my ass. Not my most graceful exit to be sure.
It doesn’t matter though. I need some space from Obsidian because the last thing I can do is become even more attracted to him. I’m here for one purpose only, and it’s not to fall for the billionaire bad boy, no matter what games he’s playing.
Chapter
Eleven
OBSIDIAN
“She needs to go.” I push a hand through my hair as I pace in front of Asher’s desk on Monday morning.
“Is she incapable of doing her job?” he asks, hands steepled in front of him, rocking back in his chair.
I wish that were the case. It would make it easy to get rid of her. Asher doesn’t tolerate incompetence. None of us do. But she’s fucking good at her job, unfortunately. She anticipates what I need before I can even ask for it, and everything I assigned her last week was done correctly with efficiency. There’s no question that she’s taken a lot off my plate, and it has been helpful in relieving some of that pressure.
“That’s not it. I told you. I don’t need a babysitter.” I turn to face him, hoping he’ll buy the lie.
It’s true, I don’t need someone watching over me and reporting back to my brothers if that’s what she’s doing, but that’s not why Ariana has to go. It’s because she’s a goddamn siren, and the pull to her grows stronger by the day.
I was fucked up on alcohol and weed when I ran into her in the garden yesterday, and I’ve almost convinced myself that’s the only reason I allowed myself to touch her and call her beautiful. But now that I know what her bare skin feels like beneath my palm, it’s even harder to keep my head in check. I tossed and turned in bed all night, imagining what it would be like to fuck her the way I want to—insatiable and primal. To make her bend to my will and push her past her comfort zone.
“She’s not a babysitter, Sid. I know you think we probably have her reporting back to us, but that’s not the case.”