Page 5 of Hung Up

“Oh, like I’d give you the fucking chance,” I gritted through clenched teeth. Even though the threat made my breath catch, I would never let him know how his words affected me. Who the fuck was this guy?

“I know you’re already wet.” His brows waggled at me, eyes still bright with lust but thinly lined with humor as he tried to distract me from his crude words.

But the stranger was right.

My pussy throbbed at the sight of the demigod in front of me. Chiseled and scruffy jaw, straight nose, chocolate eyes, and an effortlessly sexy mop of brown tangles on his head. His short facial hair framed pink lips and accentuated a dimpled chin before tracing up his jaw. My pussy wept as his eyes flicked to my mouth, a smirk curling his lips.

“So if I reached over and slipped my fingers under your panties, you’ll be . . . unaffected?” The heat in the room cranked up, thickening the air between us.

My muscles clamped down, unsatisfied with how empty I was.

“I don’t know you,” I argued, sweat beading along my hairline. I was well aware that wasn’t a denial. This was crazy. I should be panicking, right?

“Let’s change that.” His lithe fingers swept a lock of my black hair behind my ear.

The man leaned forward, sharing my breath. My eyes flicked down to his wet lips, and I moved a hair’s breadth closer.

“I’m Pierce,” he whispered against my lips.

Why hadn’t I moved away?

This was crazy.

“Harper.” Breaths fell hoarsely between us as electricity pulled me closer. I was surprised that my hair wasn’t standing on end.

But I had him right where I wanted him. Or maybe it was the other way around.

I smiled, looking deeply into Pierce’s chocolate eyes before speaking carefully. “Would you like to explain what the fuck you’re doing in my house, Pierce?”

A flash of perfectly white teeth. “You called me, love.”

“What the fuck? No, I didn’t.” My voice was alarmingly high. “I don’t even know you!”

“Yes, you do.” He raised a singular brow.

“No, I really don’t,” I practically growled.

“We talk every night.” Pierce’s words were confident, his gaze dropping to my lips, once again. “Every night.”

What . . . ?

Realization dawned, and I stared at him dumbfounded. Pushing him over, I searched the bed once again.

No trace of my hot pink princess phone.

Not under the duvet, not hiding behind a pillow, not tossed unceremoniously onto the floor . . .

My eyes slowly moved back to the hunk of a man still in my bed, now staring at me as if he wanted to eat me, and I looked at color of his boxers again.

That . . . couldn’t be a coincidence, right?

I gulped, the reality of my situation weighing on me like a stone. My breath stuck in my throat as I clambered out of bed, blindly reaching for the door handle and backing out of my room and into the living space. Pierce stalked me, step for step, following me as I skirted by the couch to grab my cell and towards the front door. My purse sat on an end table directly next to my door, along with my house keys and I beelined for them.

“Stay . . . ” I trailed off, eyes darting to my purse. “Just stay here, okay?”

Pierce paused and considered my words. I waited by the door as he processed my command, nodding as reassuringly as I could manage.

He nodded back once, and a sigh escaped me.

---