Page 53 of Convict's Game
It was distracting. I had to keep reminding myself this wasn’t a test drive with built-in orgasms.
Part of why I’d wanted to take him home was to process what I felt for him in my own space. A week ago, I’d first seen him through a window, and today, we’d had sex after a brutal evening. It was so far from my usual reality of responsible, cautious living that I couldn’t understand myself. All I was sure about was that I wanted him closer.
He caught me staring. “Careful, Mila. Take me upstairs first, or any early waking neighbours are going to get an eyeful of you bent over this car.”
I ducked my head and went to open my door. He stilled me with a touch, rounding to let me out.
“Such a gentleman.”
“I’m really not.”
Maybe that was what I liked. “Sure you are. You opened my door before mentally undressing me.”
He kept my hand in his. I let him.
The coded lift took us up to the twelfth floor, and at my door, I pointed out the scanner.
“Biometrics.”
“What are you, MI5?”
He whistled approval, but I saw how carefully he scanned the hall behind us. Trust didn’t come easy to him, and I liked that.
The door popped open, and he held it to let me inside. I didn’t know what I expected, probably for him to grab me the moment we were shut in, but instead, he toed off his running shoes and prowled through the rooms.
I followed, seeing it through fresh eyes. The pale wood floors. The high-end kitchen with the Miele appliances my grandmother approved of, and the living area to the other side, the white sofas arranged to take in the city view.
Décor-wise, it was practically unchanged from when I’d moved in. I’d never noticed that.
I hovered in the hall doorway. “My grandparents gifted me this place so I had somewhere to live outside of term at school and university. They liked me to come back to Deadwater.”
“Not to live with them?”
I wrinkled my nose. That had never been on the table. “No.”
Convict checked out the artwork that had always been on the walls then moved to the coffee table where I’d left a sprawl of paperwork, discarded when I’d come up with my auction plan. He picked up a thick file and read the first page.
“Last will and testament? If this is all about money, I’ll be disappointed.”
My heart sank unreasonably. To hide my reaction, I folded my arms. “Seriously?”
His grin returned, and he placed the file back down and slowly stalked over to me. “No. I’ll still adore you. I am intrigued, though.”
I stiffened, all too aware of how completely alone we were in this apartment. I wanted this. I wanted him. I couldn’t be sure why it was so strong, but perhaps it was because he was so resourceful. Or maybe I needed the distraction of a dangerously sexy guy to balance out the mess my life had become.
Turning, I made for the hall, beckoning him to follow. “I’ll show you the bedrooms.”
In my bedroom doorway, I reached for the light switch, thankful that I’d left my bed neat and nothing embarrassing on display.
Convict’s hand landed over mine and paused my action, leaving the room dark. He took in the space then gestured with his chin. “That fluffy white rug and the mirror.”
“What about them?”
“If I let you take me into this bedroom, it’s where I’ll fuck you first.”
I stared at him, shocked. Convict’s eyes darkened.
“I’ll drag that rug over so it’s in front of the glass. Then I’ll get you naked, put you on all fours, and fuck you from behind. You’ll finally give in to the lust you’re holding at bay, and you’ll do anything I ask. You’ll beg for more. When you’re about to come, I’ll pull you upright so we can watch my dick plunge in and out of you and witness the second you break apart.”
