Page 33 of Mine to Ruin

“Maybe I don’t sleep at all,” he says teasingly, but there is a trace of heaviness in his voice.

By the end of the hour, I have discovered muscles I never knew I had. I resemble a dried tomato in the sun, and I’m sweating enough to fill a bathtub. But Mr. Perfect looks like he just finished a photoshoot for a body wash ad.

“There is something wrong with you. Are you even human?” I ask and pinch the board of muscles on his stomach. Even photoshop would say more defined is not in.

“Does this feel human enough for you?” he asks before slamming his lips on mine, and yes, my fantasy unfolds in front of me.

Since the moment I stepped inside his place this morning, all I wanted was this, this chord tensing between us. My stomach growls, interrupting a very fine moment.

He takes my hand and places me on his kitchen island while he mixes two smoothies. Once he’s done, he pushes a box to me and when I discover what’s inside, I melt.

“Happy?”

“Very.” He’s the other reason I am happy.

“What other things are you proficient at? I know you own a hotel, and you can fight.”

He steals a kiss, and my mind works double to find focus. “More than one hotel.”

I roll my eyes at him, and he twirls my ponytail. “You collect art. What else?”

“That would be it.”

“I googled you.”

“Did you find any interesting facts about me?” He raises a brow, like he’s confident I didn’t find any dirt on him.

“You’re big on charities, especially children and animals.”

“Yeah, the ones who can’t protect themselves.”

“See, you have a good heart.”

“That’s all you found out? Hmm, I am disappointed.” He pouts in fake disappointment.

He bends his head and says, “You’re so damn beautiful, you kill me.”

His hot breath caresses my neck, he rubs his nose against my cheek, and my skin prickles at his voice.

“I don’t want to ruin you.”

“You won’t.”

I take a step back, my hands aching from holding the brush for so long. I tilt my head, lost in the haze of blues, and the grays and greens crashing into each other on the canvas. Brandon walks over with a box of my favorite donuts, and I grin at him.

I reach out to take one when he slaps it playfully away. “That’s sweet of you.”

“Hey, these are mine. Go get your own!”

“It would take me longer than my break.”

His lips curve into a secretive grin, and he bites into a donut. “We have a store upstairs,” Brandon informs me.

“What?”

“Didn’t you know? Kian wanted one.”

“Oh my God.” I cover my mouth with my hand, my heart racing like crazy.

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