Page 68 of Savage Desire

Fuck. I should just flick it forward on purpose and see if he will follow through. Even if there’s no desire in his threat and I’m reading it wrong, I’m still more inclined to find out.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” he breathes, eyes blazing into mine.

My lips part, ready to explain that this is actuallyallhim when he’s gone again. My body misses his touch as he storms across the room, fingers raking through his hair as he approaches the bar again. This time he doesn’t stop, though, he circles the wooden top and reaches for a bottle of liquor.

He places it down on the bar top with a little more force than I expect before placing two shot glasses beside it. He doesn’t move, though. He just stares at it all.

My lips purse as I take a tentative step toward him, nerves threatening to get the better of me. I feel even more out of my depth than I usually do.

“Do you need me to leave?” I finally ask, the words heavy on my tongue as his gaze snaps to mine.

“I need you to stay the fuck here,” he grunts, palms flat on the bar as he eyes me.

My eyebrows gather, confusion getting the better of me. The rapid pace at which he wavers between hot and cold is almost too much to bear. As hot as he is, I can’t just stand here while he… does what, exactly?

Clearing my throat, I stand taller. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’m?—”

“It’s you,” he snaps, brows furrowed as he glares at me.

I lift my hands in surrender, gaping at him as my caution levels rise. “I don’t know what you think I’m doing, but?—”

“You make me feral,” he continues, interrupting me as his fists hit the bar with a thud, and I gulp, my thighs clenching for the hundredth time tonight.

“Interrupt me again andI’llturn feral,” I bite back, irritation swirling with the desire that seeps through my body. If I intended to put him in his place with my words, I fail miserably as his eyes darken and a salacious grin spreads across his lips.

He pushes up slowly, the liquor forgotten as he takes calculated steps toward me, taking his sweet-ass time as his gaze rakes over me from head to toe before he repeats the process.

“I don’t have time for a woman.”

Step.

“I don’t have the luxury of indulging in a distraction.”

Step.

“I don’t have any reason to consider getting caught up in the chaos that surrounds you.”

Step.

“But you.”

Step.

“In that fucking dress.”

Step.

“Hiding behind your hair.”

Step.

“Is enough to make any man fall victim to your siren call.”

Step.

We stand toe to toe, and for the first time tonight, he keeps his hands to himself.

I don’t like it.

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