Page 56 of Menace in Vegas

I freeze.

His breath brushes my ear. "You keep fighting it, baby, he whispers.

My lungs seize.

"But we both know…" His lips graze my shoulder. "If you’d listened to me, you wouldn’t have been in that situation earlier."

My body tenses.

Even though he’s right, he has no right to tell me what to do.

“I can do what I want?—"

His dark chuckles cuts me off.

“Sure you can. But you know what that means?” His fingers graze my hip. “When you piss me off, you don’t get my dick.”

Then he rolls over and goes the fuck to sleep.

I’m pissed.

Horny.

An overall mess of whirling emotions in this godforsaken motel bed.

I toss and turn.

I fume.

But when I roll over and look at him, and my stupid heart stutters, I know I’m in trouble.

Big, irreversible, can’t-go-back-now trouble.

* * *

Every timeI close my eyes and drift off, I hear his voice.

"You liked watching me lose my mind over you."

It loops on repeat.

And I can’t escape it.

Mercifully, golden rays of sunlight begin to light up the sky.

We’ll be on the road again soon.

I’ll forget this ever happened.

I’ll purge it from my memory the second we hit Vegas.

I glance over my shoulder.

Connor is still sleeping beside me, his breath steady, strong, and infuriatingly calm.

I frown.

He’s oblivious to my turmoil.

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