Page 74 of The Villain

I stare at him in confusion. “Do you ever listen? I think there’s something in the water in this town.”

“Let me get this straight,” he holds a hand out as he shakes his head. “You walked away to give me a break?”

I shrug. “I came on too strong because I’m getting impatient. I’ll behave.”

“You were going to come back to the table,” he continues slowly.

“Where else would I go? The bar?” I taunt.

“They’re down there talking shit,” he points out with a confused smile.

“I don’t give a fuck about them.”

“I think I’m finally getting that,” he says with a low laugh. His head is tilted like I revealed something to him. I wonder what it was.

I cross my arms over my chest and jerk my chin at him. “I’m waiting.”

“This isn’t what I was picturing.” His cheeks turn a dull red and he glances back at the stairs. His blush is different when he’s feeling embarrassed. A little darker and it spreads to the tips of his ears.

“Did you lock it?”

“Yeah,” he says and shifts on his feet.

How can he be so forceful and shy at the same time? Maybe because I’m taking charge and he isn’t used to it?

“Take your shirt off, statue,” I gentle my tone. Trying to lure him into the game with me.

“I thought you were behaving,” he gives me a smirk.

“I am,” I assure him. “You’re not naked and begging for me yet. I can be patient.”

His eyes flick between mine and then he pulls the shirt off over his head without any of the showmanship he used before. This is the natural movement of a man getting undressed. It doesn’t matter. The ease he has when he moves, the flushed cheeks, the confused/pleased look on his face. All for me.

“You’re beautiful,” I tell him solemnly.

His eyes narrow as he takes that in. “Not handsome?”

He thinks I’m mocking him. I can tell by how his hands are becoming fists at his sides. I like the way his arms flex with restrained anger.

I frown, “Handsome is a pale word. Beautiful is what you are. Everyone around you is shades of gray but you are in technicolor. You make everything brighter than it’s ever been.”

His eyes have widened and his fingers uncurl.

I take the steps that bring me to him and run a finger over his collar bones.

“You’re perfect,” I mutter and let my hand glide down his pec. The muscle jumps in reaction. His skin is smooth and hot to the touch. His nipple pebbles under my palm.

“Is this a game?” He asks in a strained voice.

I look into his pale eyes, seeing the dilation of his pupils with a smile. “I’ll always play games with you. But you aren’t a game to me. You’re something I’ve never seen before and I want more.”

“You can have it,” he utters with a shaky breath. He looks like he’s straining to keep himself in check when he doesn’t need the leash.

“I won’t take it from you, statue. You’ll have to give it to me. Willingly,” I whisper with a grin.

His lips crash into mine. Demanding, desperate as his tongue flickers over my lower lip, not quite asking permission to enter but a token effort of it. My lips part and he invades me. It’s the only way I can describe it. Like he’s ready to consume me through his lips and tongue alone.

He finds an angle that he likes and the demanding thrust of his tongue becomes coaxing, teasing me to get a response.

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