“You sure about that?” he looks back to my lips and then my eyes, waiting for me to admit that I want him. I can’t do that. I won’t do that. I gulp nervously and nod. Why am I so nervous all of a sudden? I’m never nervous, especially around Ryker Steele. My eyes narrow.
Ryker pushes back in his chair, stands, and sits on the table right in front of me. Wow, he’s large. Everywhere. I can see the bulge sticking out in his grey sweatpants, and God, how does he carry that thing around all day?
Ryker’s finger slips under my chin, bringing my head up to face him. He looks down to his cock, his lips turning up into a wide grin.
His finger lingers under my chin, and I don’t make a move to remove it. His eyes search mine, likely waiting for me to swat him away.
“Take it out,” Ryker demands huskily. My eyes widen. What did he just say?
“We’re in the library.” Ryker cocks a brow.
“So, if we weren’t, you would?” he questions. He finally removes his finger from under my chin, but this time he pushes a stray hair behind my ear. The gesture sends tingles through my entire body.
“No,” there’s no way I’m giving this man the satisfaction of knowing I’m slightly attracted to him. But my body has other plans.
My breath quickens and Ryker notices.
“And here I thought you were just playing the good little student, studying hard, working day and night. But it seems there's more to you than that,” Ryker’s voice drops to a lower register, sending shivers down my spine despite myself.
Feeling flustered and annoyed at myself for the reactions I’m having, I stand up to face him, our bodies only inches apart.
“And what's that supposed to mean?”
Ryker's gaze flicks down to my lips before meeting my eyes again, a challenge flashing in them.
“It means, Gwen, that I think you're a tightly wound coil, just waiting to be unleashed. And I'd be happy to be the one to set you free.”
My breath hitches, and I realize I’ve moved closer to him, standing between his parted legs.
I’ve completely forgotten how to breathe. This cocky, irritatingly attractive man in front of me has stolen the air from my lungs.
Ryker’s hands find my hips and stay there while he watches my face. I imagine I look quite flushed and probably slightly nervous.
An idea forms in my mind as I stand there wondering what Ryker’s next move is.
This could work for me. Making Ryker think that I’m going to give into him, knowing I never will. It’s cruel, but so is he.
With a sultry laugh, I take a daring step forward, closing the small gap between us. I get so close to his face; I can feel his hot breath on my lips.
“And what makes you think I need to be set free?” My own gaze lingers on his lips, fighting the urge to close the gap completely.
Ryker's smirk returns as he reaches out to trail a finger along my jawline, sending sparks of electricity coursing through my veins.
“You can drop the hating game, Gwen. I see the want burning behind those eyes. I don’t think you hate me as much as you think.”
My heart pounds, desire taking over my usually practical mind.
“You’re right,” I lift my hand, gently stroking his stubbled cheek. He leans into my hand, and it’s almost a sweet gesture.
When he closes his emerald green eyes, I lean in as if I’m going to kiss him but stop right as my lips begin to brush his.
“I hate you more,” I whisper, backing away and grabbing my things off the table, leaving Ryker sitting there on the table completely stunned.
Did he really think it would be that easy to get me? He should really know better by now.
Chapter 18
Guinevere