Page 45 of The Devil's Deal

His hooded gaze is as lost as mine as he peers down at my lips. He sighs, and his minty breath skates over my mouth just as his hand falls.

“Go.” He points a finger to the door to my left, leading to the bathroom. “There’s a towel and robe there already. Your suitcase is in the closet over there.” He gestures toward another door, further down from the bathroom.

“Thanks.”

I feel strange thanking him for anything. But how does that saying go? You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar. I have to do better at controlling my temper. My attitude will not work with him.

He sits back on the bed while I head inside, finding an all-white, luxurious bathroom, straight out of one of those “homes for celebrities” shows. The flooring is shiny marble with a spray of gray. There’s a jacuzzi in one corner and a standup shower in another.

I turn on the spray of the scalding hot water, hoping to melt away this awful day. I still can’t believe this is happening to me. I need to figure out what to do. I can’t rely on my so-called father. If it comes down to his life or mine, he’d sacrifice me to save himself.

I remove my clothes, leaving them on the countertop beside the double sink, and walk into the shower. When I look for something to wash my hair with, I find all of my things already there. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d been to my house.

I spend my time lathering my hair, enjoying the feel of the hot water running down my body. After I’m done, I wrap a gray towel over my head and use the other to dry my body before throwing on the robe, tightly securing the belt around my waist.

I exit the bathroom, and the cool air hits my legs, causing my shoulders to shiver.

Brian stands, heading for the closet and pulling out my luggage.

“How was the shower?” he asks, his gaze zigzagging from my face down to my tits, trying hard not to stare at them through the robe, but failing.

I don’t blame him. They’re nice. My nipples are hard from the chill. I hope he’s enjoying the barely there view, because he’ll never get to see them without my clothes on.

“It was fine,” I answer, grabbing the handle of my luggage from him.

While I do, my finger grazes his. I gasp as my skin ignites with electrifying heat and my entire body comes alive with tingles shooting up every inch.

He doesn’t so much as flinch, but I can tell from the way his eyes bore into mine, he felt the impact of our touch.

“I have to go,” he informs me dryly, whatever connection we just shared now gone. “I’m locking the door from the outside. The remote is in the drawer of the TV stand. I’ll see you later.”

He gives me his back and leaves. I wonder what mood he’ll be in when he returns.

Chapter Fourteen

Dominic

I’m supposedto hate this woman, not be tempted by her beauty. And sheisbeautiful. Not just sexy or hot, or one of those poorly constructed adjectives. She’s stunning, with the power to bring me to my knees if I allow her to get close enough. If I allow her to remind me of the past.

But I won’t.

She’ll never get under my skin. Chiara will always be kept at an arm’s length.

She’s nothing more than a means to an end. When I get what I want, she’ll be free to go.

And I always get what I want.

I should’ve tied her back up, but I can’t deny somewhere inside this broken man is a boy who’d turn the world upside down to see the girl he once loved love him back. No matter how much hurt I carry for what she did, there’s no way I’d ever hurt her, no matter what I want her to believe.

Seeing her bruised wrists hurt me enough. I hated what I did to her, and I don’t want to do it again. She’s a part of my past, sewn into the very depths of my soul, and there’s no way to erase her. No way to pretend we never were.

Reaching into my pocket, I retrieve my cell and press a few keys to access the cams I have set up at my home, including the ones in her room. It’s merely for her protection and mine. I have to keep an eye on my most valuable possession.

She’s lying in bed, her body barely covered at all, her long, tanned legs on full display. Tiny gray shorts ride up the insides of her thighs, a place I bet she’s warm and soft. Too soft for a man like me, even if I did allow myself to have a taste.

She’s in a loose-fitted tank top, the tops of her breasts pushed up. The desire to run my tongue over those perky tits has my cock throbbing.

When I saw her in the robe earlier, those hard beads of her breasts pushing against the soft fabric, I wanted nothing more than to tear open that flimsy piece of material and have every inch of her. I can’t stop thinking of her that way, even while knowing I shouldn’t.

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