Page 42 of Bad for Business
The only thing on my mind was that I needed to feel the press of her lips against mine again.
I didn’t know a kiss could leave a brand until her. The moment she pressed her lips to mine at the stroke of midnight at that party, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to forget her. And that was before I brought her back to my place and we had the most incredible night together.
In the heat of the moment tonight, all I wanted was to feel that again. I didn’t just want it; Ineededit. And I’m trying not to get frustrated with myself for feeling that way because it really felt like she needed it too.
Now, as I stare at a slammed door, I’m not so sure.
I test the handle, finding it locked.
“Camille, open the door.” My voice isn’t soft. It’s desperate, and I don’t even care.
There’s silence. Of course there’s fucking silence. She’s building her walls so damn high that she isn’t even going to fight about it.
I wiggle the knob again, this time harder. I don’t know what I’m thinking. It’s not like she was going to listen to me and unlock it.
“Go away, Ryker.” Her words come from the other side of the door.
I press my forehead to the wood, taking a deep breath as my emotions completely take over.
Anger at myself for wanting so desperately to kiss her in the first place.
Fury at her for running away. She gave me the smallest glimpse of what it’s like to talk to her without her guard up again, and now I’m furious that she took it away just as quickly as she gave it.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her. I wrap my fingers around the doorknob again and turn it, a small part of me hoping that maybe she unlocked it after all.
She didn’t.
“Leave me alone.” I’m shocked by the conviction she laces in her words. Maybe I read the situation wrong. Maybe she didn’t want to kiss me.
I let out a groan. My eyes close for a moment as I replay the moment out by the pool all over again. Maybe it was all in my head. I don’t fucking know anymore. Everything’s so twisted, and I don’t know what’s real and what’s not.
“I can’t leave you alone,” I confess. I regret the words the moment they come out. If she’s going to close herself off, why the hell should I be honest?
She doesn’t respond, because of course she doesn’t. It’s silly for me to think she would.
I stand there without saying a word. Every second that ticks by only makes my pulse spike with anger even more.
I don’t know what I was thinking. The answer is, Iwasn’tthinking. I’m never thinking straight when it comes to her. She turns me into someone I don’t recognize. I never fight with anybody, yet all I do is fight with her. I never think twice about a woman, yet all I think about is her. I never let anyone get under my skin, yet she’s carved herself down to my bones.
Camille Vaughn is the first person to drive me crazy in two very different ways—in how much I want her and how much I wish I’d never even met her.
I don’t know how long I stand there with my forehead pressed to the door and my hands holding on to the doorframe on either side of my body. It must be a while. Long enough for her to think it’s safe to open the door.
“Shit,” Camille mutters before immediately trying to slam the door.
“Not happening,” I tell her, pushing my body through the doorframe and into her room. She’s not going to lock me out. She had her chance and messed up by opening the door.
“Get out of my room,” she demands, her chest heaving up and down. Her cheeks are pink, and I can’t help but wonder what’s turning them that color.
Lust? Embarrassment? Anger?
“My family owns the house. I can be in whatever room I want, and right now, I want to be in this one.”
Her eyes go wide and flash with fury. I try to keep my gaze focused on them. She wears a dress that can’t even be considered a dress. Maybe it’s a nightgown. All I know is that the fabric is thin as fuck and clings to her body in ways that are driving me fucking mad.
She lets out a shrill, sarcastic laugh. “Perfect. So I’m stuck with you for the summer, forced to spend almost every second with you as I make sure you don’t mess things up, and I’m not even allowed one damn room to myself to escape you?”
I swallow. If this were any other time, I might feel guilty about telling her it’s my family’s house. But right now, I’m too upset at the knowledge she’s about to shut me out again to feel bad about my words.
