Page 91 of Lana Pecherczyk
His lips twitched, eyes lingering on where she’d touched him. “My guess is my parents, but Ash knew. My sisters probably helped. Again … welcome to the Umbria Kettle.”
Blake’s stomach clenched. His family drugged her? But she thought they liked her. “Why?”
“You don’t want to know.” River sighed, avoiding her gaze.
“Yeah, nah.” She folded her arms and raised her brows.
“Which is it, yeah or nah?”
“I’m not buying it.”
“Buying what?” His black brows knitted innocently, reminding her of how he’d looked while sleeping.
“Yeah, I hear what you’re saying. But nah, I’m not accepting your answer.”
“Just say that, then.”
“Why did they drug us, and more importantly, why the bloody hell aren’t you ropeable about it?”
“Ropeable?” His gaze dipped to her mouth. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying today, Sparkles, but you look sexy all worked up. Keep talking.”
She shoved him again, square in the chest. Big mistake. The Guardian caught her wrists and flipped their positions faster than she could blink. She ended up pinned beneath his warm, hard body with her hands trapped above her head, his amused blue eyes inches from hers.
“Naughty mate,” River murmured. “Getting violent with your male.”
She wriggled, trying to squirm free, but he easily adjusted his hips and legs to trap her completely. She felt like a mouse in a lion’s jaws. Her ex’s muscles were nothing compared to River’s effortless strength. Not that Jeff had ever manhandled her like this. Not that she was complaining about River doing it.
None of this should feel right.
Yet everything did whenever he touched her. The way he looked at her, all hot and wanting, made her body ache to surrender. Being desired this intensely, becoming the object of someone’s obsession after years in a cardboard relationship, made her pulse quicken. She silently begged him to manhandle her again, to move her like his plaything while having his wicked way with her.
She inhaled deeply, arching her breasts into him. His eyes dipped, and he released a strangled groan. For a moment, she thought—hoped—he’d go all feral and take her mouth like before.
Instead, he pushed off with a muttered curse, scrubbed his face, and slid from the bed.
After composing himself, he strode straight for the exit door with zero concern that they were in a moving vehicle. His fist closed around the bejeweled knob, turned, and pulled.
“River!” Blake leaped after him, stumbling on the decorative rug.
The door remained shut.
She slapped his hand away. “Are you nuts?”
“You know I am.”
“I’m not kidding. You open that door and?—”
“Worried I’ll fall out?”
“Of course I am.” Annoyed he couldn’t see that, she slipped under his arm and pressed her back against the door. The protective move filled his eyes with arrogance, provoking her to blurt what was really on her mind. “One minute, you look like you want to kiss me. Next, you’re attempting to leap out of a moving vehicle. I’m insulted.”
She truly was. This outfit made her look good. Made herfeelgood. Better than she had in days. If he wasn’t into her, then—You can’t upcycle yourself, babe.
Blake folded her arms across her midriff, hating how that disparaging voice still lingered in the corners of her mind.
River held her gaze and slapped his palm against the door beside her head, caging her. His other hand reached around her waist to grasp the doorknob. The heat of his body scalded her front. She clutched his shirt as he jiggled the door, squeezed her eyes shut, and waited to fall. Nothing happened.
“Door’s locked, Sparkles.”
