Page 47 of Corrupt Me

His gaze narrowed as it followed the phone to where it had landed in a pile of rumpled bedding. “Ever,” he growled, pinning me with a piercing glower.

Not good. This isn’t good.

I needed a reasonable excuse as to why I was in his room. An even better one for looking through his phone.

I had nothing.

But it didn’t stop my mouth from trying.

“I was only borrowing it. My phone is dead, and I needed to call—” I swallowed the rest of my pathetic excuse as he took a step toward the bed, and my already racing pulse quickened.

My eyes darted to the closed door behind him. Dread filled me at the space between my freedom and me.Why did it seem like a million miles away?Abandoning any hope of snatching his laptop, I moved on to the plan of running. The question was…could I make it to the door without him catching me?

Even in only a towel, Tristan looked formidable, someone I shouldn’t cross. Perhaps more so because of his lack of attire. His towel could fall off his hips at any moment, and no one wanted that.

Right?

Not that I hadn’t seen Tristan naked. It was that I was doing so very hard to forget how glorious his body was.

And obviously failing, since even now in a compromising situation, I thought about what lay under the towel.

Only a few seconds had unraveled, but in that time, I decided to risk escaping, and before I could change my mind, I scrambled to the other side of the bed, miscalculating Tristan’s reflexes. The story of my life, underestimating him.

My feet never got the chance to touch the floor, Tristan’s fingers wrapping around my ankle, and he dragged me across the disheveled bedding toward him. He flipped me onto my back, my free leg kicking out and missing. With one quick yank, he had me at the edge of the bed where he positioned himself between my legs, securing my arms over my head on the mattress as he leaned over me. “Where do you think you’re going, Shortcake?”

My heart tripped at his brisk tone, and I squirmed.

Bad idea.

Is that…? Did I…? Is he hard?

I gulped, immediately halting my movements, freezing underneath him. My eyes lifted to his.

If his towel didn’t hold, I wouldn’t just feel his erection, I’d damn well be able to see it.

My head turned to the side as I rapidly breathed in and out, taking in the scent of his sheets…of him. “Tristan. Let. Me. Up,” I panted, exerted from wrestling with him.

He drew in a shallow breath like he struggled to maintain composure. “Not until you tell me what you were doing with my phone, Shortcake.”

A chill swept over my neck. “What do you think I was doing?” I spat. “You gave me no choice.”

“So,yousnooping where you don’t belong ismyfault.”

“Exactly.”

He shook his head. “Why do you have to complicate everything in my life?”

“Me!” I shrilled, again trying to dislodge my wrists from his grasp. “If you hadn’t taken those photos, I wouldn’t have to sneak into your room.”

His thumbs swiped over the inside of my wrists, and the dread I felt morphed into something warmer as did the center of his eyes. “Maybe I wanted you to sneak into my room. Did you think of that? Perhaps I’d been waiting for this moment.”

I gritted my teeth, my jaw aching. “Stop messing with me, Tristan. And let me up, or I’ll scream,” I warned, meaning it.

“Who would hear you? Sam?” He snorted, but the fingers on my wrists loosened a fraction.

My chin jerked. “You don’t scare me. You’re not as threatening as you think.”

The lines bracketing his mouth deepened. “Then maybe I’m going too easy on you.”

---