Page 93 of Menace in Vegas

Then I glare at him.

My chest heaves. I’m furious, but not at him.

I’m mad at myself.

Because I like his attention. The chaos. The tug-of-war.

God, I’m so broken.

He pulls the sheets back, grinning down at me like he’s won something. “Get comfortable, baby. It’s gonna be a long night.”

My heart pounds like a drum.

I’m not surviving this.

No chance in hell.

34

ALLISON

My skin tingles beneath his stare. He looks at me like he’s two seconds from turning me into dessert.

The mattress dips as his knee hits the bed.

I stop breathing when he leans over me, his smirk smug and slow.

I close my eyes, waiting for his lips on mine.

“Goodnight, Allie,” he whispers.

My eyes fly open.

He climbs off me, rolls over, and faces the wall.

What. The. Hell?

I stare at his back, waiting for him to crack, but he just lies there. Breathing steady. Completely ignoring me.

The rage that rolls through me is immediate.

The horniness engulfs me like flames.

The combination is catastrophic.

“I hate you,” I whisper.

Oops. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

No response.

I stare at the ceiling, spiraling like a woman who shaved everything, wore a lacy thong, and whimpered when he called her agood girl.

A woman ready to sin.

And he kissed my cheek like a sweet little church boy and went to sleep?

Oh, he’s fuckingdead!

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