Mac’s eyes dig into me, and I know she’s itching to say something, to bicker about this, but I beat her to it. “Look, let’s just get this over with, alright? I’ll pay for the room, and we’ll forget about the whole thing.”
She huffs, rolling her eyes. “I didn’t ask you to pay for my room, Hank.”
“Yeah, well, consider it an apology for last night,” I say, trying to keep my voice low so Jessica doesn’t hear us bickering like kids in a candy store. “Just let me do this, okay?”
Mac opens her mouth to argue, but before she can, Jessica hands me the room key with a bright smile. “Here you go! Room 203. And again, I’m so sorry for the mix-up!”
I force a smile, taking the key from her. “Thanks.”
“I can take it from here,” Mac says sharply.
“Let me carry your backpack.”
“Oh? Now, you’re suddenly being nice. Look at that.”
“Do you want me to be mean?”
“Maybe. I sort of miss the old asshole version of Hank. At least he left me alone.”
“I feel like I’m getting mixed signals from you right now, and it’s a little confusing!”
She rolls her eyes, marches in front of me down the hallway and up the stairs.
When we reach her room, I whip open the door, tossing her bag on the ground then close it behind me. I grab her wrist firmly, pressing her against the wall.
“Listen, princess.” I lean in close to Mac, our faces mere inches apart. Her breath hitches as my fingers tighten around her wrist. "You think you miss the old me?" I growl. "The one who would've tossed you out on your ass the second you stepped foot on our property?"
Mac swallows hard but holds my gaze defiantly. "At least he was honest about what he wanted."
I scoff. "And what's that? For you to stay far away from me and my family?"
"Yes," she hisses. "Instead of this hot and cold bullshit. Fucking me one night, telling me to get off the property the next, then suddenly trying to take care of me. Paying for a hotel room as if it will make everything magically better for how shitty you’ve all treated me.”
"I'm trying to do the right thing here. I know I haven't been the nicest guy, but I'm not a complete asshole either."
Mac's eyes flash with defiance, but there's something else there too, a hint of desire, and longing.
"Could've fooled me," she whispers.
My hand tightens on her wrist as I lean in closer, until my lips almost brush against hers.
Her dark eyes bore into mine, challenging me, daring me to prove her wrong.
“You really don’t know who the hell you’re messing with. Are you trying to piss me off right now?”
Mac's breath quickens, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she holds my intense gaze. The air between us crackles with tension, the heat of our bodies pressing close in the small entryway of the dark hotel room.
"Maybe I am," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe I want to see what happens when I push the big, bad Hank Truitt to his limits."
A low growl rumbles in my throat as I press her against the wall, my body flush against hers. I can feel every curve, and every line of her lithe form molded to mine. The scent of her - earthy and fresh like the forest after a storm - fills my senses, making my head spin.
"You don't want to play this game with me, Mac," I warn, my voice rough with barely restrained desire. "I'm not the kind of man you can just toy with.”
Mac's chin lifts defiantly even as her pulse races under my fingers still wrapped around her wrist. "I'm not toying with you, Hank. I’m not some girl you can just spend money on and expect to be happy. I'm not going to just roll over and let you push me around either.”
I lean in even closer until our noses are almost touching, my eyes locked on hers. "Is that so? Because from where I'm standing, it seems like you enjoy pushing my buttons. Like you get off on seeing how far you can take this before I snap."
She inhales sharply and I can practically hear her heart pounding. But she doesn't back down. "And what if I do? What are you going to do about it?"