Page 18 of The Devil's Daughter

His lips press tight and his nostrils flare. “It’s a hard limit, Elle. No.”

I blink at him, his use of the phrase “hard limit” reminding me that this is just a kinky game to him. Maybe I should set some limits too. But how am I going to learn what mine are if I don’t test myself?

“Okay, fine. No watching you. Can we compromise?”

“I’m listening,” he says in a wary tone.

I’m not sure what to ask for, then I remember all the cameras, and a thought occurs to me. “What if I danced for you while I watched? So you still get a show and I get to see more of you.”

“Tempting, but no.”

I huff out a breath and stare at the ceiling.

“Tell me what you’re really after, Elle. Watching me isn’t it.”

“This isyourstupid game, Drake. It makes no sense that I’m the only one on camera when the camera goes both ways. I want to see more than your face. Or your stupid elbow.”

“You wantmeto strip for you. Is that it? I will, but not on camera. You have to come to my room if that’s what you want.”

“Oh…okay. Then I guess I’ll put something on and be right over.”

The blood rushing through my ears is so loud I barely hear him say, “Keep the towel, Elle. It’s a good look.”

I hang up, fueled by what must be pure insanity, but our game has mutated and I’m too involved in it now to stop. The best part is that I’m pretty sure Drake is too, since he’s agreed to indulge my request.

I re-secure my towel around my breasts and pad to the door, then slip out. There’s a narrow corridor that leads between our doors, and it’s only a short distance to his, but I pause and peek down the T-shaped hallway toward Ben’s room, hoping he’s asleep. It’s late, and he looked wrecked after talking to Baz, despite his antics at dinner. He could use some sleep, but more importantly I don’t want to give him to any more reasons to attack Drake.

I reach Drake’s door and rap softly. He opens it looking rougher around the edges than when I left him after supper. He’s still in the long-sleeved pullover and shorts he was wearing then, but they’re rumpled, his hair is askew, and his cheeks need a shave. His gaze is intense as he takes me in, but he doesn’t budge from the doorway.

“You cross this threshold, there’s no going back. I hope you realize that,” he says.

“I know. But I want to get to know you, and that’s not going to happen if we keep following your rules.”

His jaw spasms, and I’m sure I see a pained look cross his face. “You don’t really want that, Elle. I’m not that interesting.”

“Don’t tell me what I want. Let me in. It’s cold out here.”

He opens the door wider and steps aside for me to pass, but before I make it all the way in, he grips my arm and turns me to face him. He’s warmer than I expected, and with the chilly air flowing from the corridor, I can’t help but lean in, seeking some of that warmth.

“I need to finish this first,” he says, then dips his mouth and covers my lips with his.

My gasp is muffled by the kiss, by his tongue darting past my lips to tease inside. He releases my arm to slip his hands around my waist and pull me in tight.

As glorious as the kiss is, as much as it stokes the barely contained fire that still burns within me, I manage to not entirely forget about my mission here. I slip my fingertips beneath the hem of his shirt, find hot, smooth skin, and push the fabric higher as I slide my hands up his belly.

His breath hitches when I tickle his ribcage and he pulls away, staring down at me, gaze searching.

“I want to see you,” I say.

“You’ve seen me in a speedo. Why is this so important?”

“Because it is. And because I want to seeallof you. I showed you mine, remember?”

He takes a shaky breath, then nods and lifts his arms, peeling the shirt over his head.

“This better?” he asks. His biceps and pectorals flex as he pulls his shirt off his wrists and tosses it onto his bed. I’m graced with a view of his toned chest dusted with dark hair, and a set of tight abs with a fine, dark happy trail extending into his shorts.

“It’s a start.” I grin up at him.

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