Page 6 of The Chemistry of Us

Unable to find my voice, I shook my head instead.

“What’s wrong, Tru? You sure you don’t want to go for a ride?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, unexpectedly feeling hot all over.

Because of him? His dick? What the hell was happening to me?

“Why don’t you just bend over? You’re staring right at him. I mean, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, sweetheart.”

That was enough to snap me out of whatever spell Vaughan Aires had the power to pull on women. I abruptly turned away, looking at the door instead.

“Can you please tell me this is just some sick joke, and you’re really not my new roommate?”

“Who knew I could still make you blush?”

“Vaughan…”

“No need to be shy now, Tru. We both know I’m aware of what you look like when you’re turned on.”

“Oh my God! I can’t argue with you if you’re not wearing any pants.”

He chuckled as his footsteps made their way upstairs to what I assumed was his bedroom. Once he was out of sight, I looked around the open space of the condo. To my complete and utter surprise, it was nicely decorated and cleaner than anything I could have imagined him living in.

A black leather sofa, loveseat, and cream accent chair sat in the middle of the spacious living room, and a huge flat-screen TV hung on the far wall. The accent rug under the coffee table matched the room perfectly. Even the art on the walls seamlessly coordinated with the furniture and simply accentuated the small details, like the dining table and kitchen.

No way did he do all of this. His family probably hired an expensive decorator because, God forbid they ever have to lift a finger in doing anything other than barking orders at someone else. Vaughan wasn’t just rich; he was wealthy, and by that, I meant he had generational wealth. Decades upon decades of fortune had been passed down in the Aires family. They were oil tycoons.

“Don’t make yourself comfortable, Cinderella. You’re not staying.”

My eyes shifted to his, and he was now wearing a pair of low-riding blue gym shorts, emphasizing his rock-hard twelve-pack and lower abdomen fuck-me abs.

He fucking grinned again.

“Is this amusing to you?” I questioned, folding my arms over my chest.

He bit the side of his lip in a charismatic and magnetic way, and it was my turn to arch an eyebrow. I hated that he was trying to use his so-called charm on me.

“What? You’re just going to stand there and be allyou?That’s really mature, asshole.”

He scoffed. “I’m not the one eye-fucking the shit out of you, now am I?”

His voice was deep, deeper than before, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t catch me off guard. Everything about him did. I thought I knew what to expect when it came to him, but he proved me wrong. Which didn’t make any sense. I was supposed to have the upper hand, not him.

My gaze broadened in shock. “That’s not what I’m doing. How about you own up to the fact that I’m your new roommate, and I’m not going anywhere? Then we won’t have any problems.”

His patronizing stare scanned the length of my body. He started with my pink toes, lingered on my breasts, and stopped at my eyes. His expression was hard to read, and it did nothing but confuse me. His persistent gaze made me feel as if I were naked in front of him.

I thought I was prepared.

I thought I knew everything there was to know about him.

I thought a lot of things, but I’d learn soon enough that I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

It was one thing to think you knew, to assume, but when it stared you right in the face, when he was looking only at you, it changed things.

It changed everything.

The way his eyes tore into mine ignited a fire deep within me. He wasn’t looking at me. He was staring through me. And I hadn’t expected that.

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