Page 22 of Menace in Vegas

"Me?" she whispers. "I’m just getting comfortable."

My fingers flex against the sheets.

If she keeps testing me, I swear to God?—

She shifts again, pressing just a little closer.

That’s it.

I snap, rolling over fast, bracing an arm on either side of her head.

She gasps.

There’s no smirk on her face now.

No teasing glint in her eyes.

Just her, flat on her back, breath catching, eyes wide.

"You wanna keep playing with me, sweetheart?" My voice is low and dark, dripping with warning.

She swallows.

I see the shift in her — the moment she realizes this isn’t just a game anymore.

Her lips part, but no sound comes out.

Good.

I lean in, so close I can feel her shaky exhale on my lips.

"You having fun now?" I murmur.

She doesn’t answer.

Her fingers twitch against the sheets.

Her breath shudders.

I smirk. "Not so cocky now, huh?"

She narrows her eyes and glares at me. "I hate you."

I chuckle darkly, dragging my knuckles down her thigh. "No, you don’t."

She inhales sharply.

I tilt my head, brushing my lips over her ear.

"You like pushing me, don’t you?" I whisper.

She shivers.

"Careful, sweetheart," I murmur, voice dropping to a growl. "You might push me too far."

I pull back, studying her face.

Her lips are parted.

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