Page 38 of Howl You Doin?
What the hell is my life?
“You’re not going anywhere with him.”
My eyes fly open at that. “What?”
“You are not going bloodyanywherewith Frank Stein,” he says, closing me in. “He’s only messing with you.”
“Are you serious right now?” I try to wiggle again, but he leans in, stopping my movements with his hulking body. His nose touches my neck, sending a ripple of goosebumps across my skin. “Stop sniffing me! Why do you always do that?”
I remember him doing it in the ballroom after my corset fiasco, and the night of the opening gala.
“No,” he says, as his nose brushes my ear.
I pant loudly and realize he’s going to make me wet if this continues. I hate how all he seems to do is come near me and my body betrays me. My eyelids begin to flutter closed just as I realize this is exactly what happened last time before he basically called me a pity fuck.
“Stop it!” I shout.
“Be still, woman, and listen to me,” he breathes, before stepping back a pace.
I have never been so glad my uniform hides my hard nipples while he keeps my arms pinned over my head easily with one hand. Fuck me and fuck that omegaverse book—I shouldn’t have stayed up all night reading it, because now I’m all hot and bothered while Connor O’Doyle teases me.
“Let me go, Connor. I don’t have to listen to you, or any other weird pervert I find in my room!” I grit out, trying to get him to let me go.
If this man finds out how he turns me on, I will kill him before I die of mortification.
“Just listen for one moment.”
“What do you want?”
“There is a strict ‘no fraternizing with guests’ policy, Miss Whitt. Since you will not listen to reason, and we can’t have a conversation for more than two seconds before you pop off at the mouth... ” His eyes fall there, his words trailing off.
I become acutely aware of two things: Connor O’Doyle wants to kiss me, and the scarier thing is that I want to let him.
“Get out of my bathroom,” I snap.
Better yet, my whole damn life!
“Tell me you won’t go on a date with him, and I will.”
Staring into his eyes, I lean forward, forcing myself not to react when I feel the hardened length of his dick at my belly. Oh god. He pulls away and I shudder lightly. It’s been so long since I have been touched, and now the idea of using the vibratorhetouched to get myself off nips at me.
Wait.
“Why are you hard right now?” I ask, my voice husky with the discovery of the substantial size of that which pokes against me. Holy guacamole, Doyle ispacking.
He grins wickedly, and I want to wipe it away with my fist.
“You still haven’t gotten laid, have you, Whitley?”
I think back to the last time I had a man between my thighs, inwardly wincing when I realize my divorce date has come and gone yet again, and I haven’t had sex in months. The last boyfriend only lasted a few months.
“That isnoneof your business.” Leaning my head back to stare at a fascinating spot over his shoulder, intent on ignoringhim until he decides to let me go. “Do you do this to other women or just me?”
“Just you. I don’t think I’ve ever had to go to such lengths to speak to a woman before without arguing.” He seems genuinely intrigued by his own assessment, and I guess I will have to take his word for it.
“Lucky me. Listen, O’Doyle Rules, this is getting really old, this back and forth.” I attempt to wave my hands for effect and manage to twist them in his grip. “I have no idea why you’re here in my suite or what you were doing with my vibrator?—”
“I have done nothing with your vibrator.”
