Page 53 of Siren's Game

Admittedly, it was obvious thatherparents are a sensitive topic, butparentsin general? How should I have known that?

"What? So because I'm not crying over spilled milk, I'm indifferent?" I didn't know it was possible, but her face turns even more red the angrier she gets.

The elevator doors open, and she storms out towards her apartment, making me hurry behind her, because I’m not about to let this conversation go.

"If you want me to treat you with kid gloves, then fucking tell me! I can't read your fucking mind." I force myself to lower my voice, but I’m so heated that it’s still pretty damned loud.

"I don't expect you to read my fucking mind, I expect you to draw logical conclusions. You're a big boy, I thought you could manage at least that or do the minimum and fucking ask!"

Her mocking tone sends my heart rate up into borderline problematic territory within one fucking moment.

She has her door open now, the jacket already off, and I waste no time crowding her inside, caging her against the wall opposite her door as I kick it shut behind me.

"Don't fucking talk to me like that." I can take a beating when I’m wrong, but there are fucking lines I don’t want crossed.

"Why, does it hurt your fragile ego?" She glares at me defiantly, trying to cross her arms in front of her chest but I take her wrist and pin it against the wall next to her.

"It makes me want to shut you up," I growl, then freeze when I realize what I said.

Well, that certainly wasn't planned.

I expect a slap, a kick to the nuts, another verbal escalation.

What I don’t expect is her pupils to widen, and her breath to hitch, and her back to involuntarily arch the tiniest bit, pushing out her breasts.

Then she shakes her head, like she's waking up from a daydream, and her glare intensifies, but this time a hint of mischief is dancing behind those eyes as she raises her eyebrow at me.

"What makes you think I'd let you?" The air isn’t less hot than during out fight but the reason is now vastly different.

"Oh, Sweetheart,"I say and crowd closer until she has to lay her head back to look at me and her breasts are pressed against my chest. "You would."

Before she can even answer, I silence her with my mouth on hers.

She could push me away. There is not a sliver of doubt in my body that she would rain hell on me if she didn't want me to kiss her, bite my lip, step on my foot with her high heel, whatever. She would let me know.

But after a quick moment of confusion, a second of her tensing in my arms, she sighs and melts against me, returning the kiss with equal fervor, pushing my tongue back into my mouth.

I let her. Only for a few moments, but I do. Then I break the kiss.

"How much did you drink?" I ask her, the taste of beer on her tongue intoxicating.

"Two beers," she whispers, and I roll my shoulders in relief before I take a small step back, lean down and throw her right over one of them. Two beers is not a drunk level of drink. For a woman her size and figure, it's probably barely a level of tipsy, despite me teasing her about it earlier.

"What the—" She 'oomphs' as my shoulder in her middle pushes the air out of her lungs. "Asher!"

I ignore her chuckled scolds as I make my way to her bedroom, carrying her like a fucking caveman.

Good thing she left the door open, so I immediately know which room to go to.

She giggles on my shoulder, hitting my back, my butt, she even tries to tickle me. I guess she saw Luca doing it on the field, but shame for her, it's only my ribs which she can't reach from where she's hanging down my body.

Once in her bedroom, I throw her onto her bed, hearing her bounce on her mattress, before I kick the door shut, covering the whole room in darkness.

"You say 'red' or give me three taps, I stop, no questions asked, you got that?"

"What?" she asks meekly, looking around confused as it’s suddenly pitch black in the room.

"Do. You. Understand?" I ask her with a strained voice, my eyes slowly getting used to the darkness and I stalk her like a predator its prey.

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