Page 75 of Kiss the Villain

I laugh, and he pauses, a curious look lightening his bright greens, but then he seems to shake off his thoughts as he stalks out the door.

I tilt my head, watching the way he walks. He’s confident, but it’s not that. It’s the posture.

The upright, perfect posture. I want to break that fucking spine so he never lifts his head again.

But maybe I should have a picture of that posture first.

I kill the cigarette in the ice, then get up and go into the shower, turning the water on full blast. My muscles protest and the lavender scent is barely there, now overshadowed by sandalwood and bergamot. The smell is so male andhim, I drive my fist into the wall as I stand under the hot shower.

The pain does nothing to expel the foul energy rippling my abdominal muscles and twitching my cock.

Because he’s outside.

And Ican’tstop thinking that he’s outside. In my space.

Around me.

Because he also couldn’t stay away.

I close my eyes and summon every ounce of control I have, but that only lets me stand in the shower for a couple more minutes.

“Fuck this.” With a mutter, I step out of the shower and dry myself.

After putting on a pair of silk pajama pants, I cast a glance around my bedroom and then focus on the nightstand’s drawer. I wouldn’t have noticed it if I weren’t anal about fucking details, but there are fingertip traces. Not mine, because I haven’t touched that drawer. Not since the night he was first here.

Someone was snooping around.

Trying to figure me out.

Good luck with that.

I walk into the living area and pause. Carson is in the bar-style kitchen, sitting on the stool with a bowl of strawberries in front of him.

He tilts his head in my direction as he wraps his lips around a large strawberry, the red flesh parting under his teeth as he bites down. My gaze zeros in on his mouth as the juice stains his lips, his tongue flicking out to catch the remnants.

And my cock is noticing it, too, getting all fucking excited as if he’s that strawberry.

A rush of awareness flickers in Carson’s gaze, and he licks his lips as he pulls off the cap. “Stop looking at me with those eyes.”

“What eyes?”

“You know exactly what eyes.”

“If you don’t want these eyes, maybe you shouldn’t seduce me.”

“I was just eating strawberries.”

“That’s subject to interpretation.” I walk toward him and sit on the stool beside him.

He recoils a bit. It’s barely noticeable, but I put him on edge.

Good.

Can’t have him getting comfortable. He’ll be miserable for the rest of his short life.

“Were you rummaging through my fridge, Carson? That’s inappropriate behavior.”

“We have that in common. Inappropriate behavior, I mean.”

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