Page 18 of Twisted Lies 4
Our eyes locked. The power of his demanding stare willed me to lower my eyes, but I forced myself not to do that. His eyebrow lifted, and mine furrowed. His eyes traveled from the top of my head down to my curvy body, seeming to like everything about it. I swallowed hard, trying hard not to squirm under his sensuous stare. He lifted his glass to his crazy-sexy hot lips and sipped his drink. My breasts tingled, and my nipples went rock hard.
Jesus, who the fuck is this man?
“The question is, do you know what you want?” he rasped with his eyes flickering in the twinkling city lights.
Holy shit!
I had to squeeze my thighs together as my sex clenched with need. His face twitched. I pinched back the urge to caress the light jagged scar running across his eyebrow.
“Does that line normally work on women?” I rolled my eyes.
Humor flashed in his eyes, but then it faded, and his gray eyes glinted. For a long couple of minutes, we just stared at each other.
“You tell me.” His voice was diamond-hard.
Uncertainty crept up on me. “Can’t confirm or deny.” I inclined my head, refusing to cower.
He assessed me with his eyes as I waited for him to say something.
“This is not a battle, darling.”
His deep drawl had my heart instantly pounding while goose bumps formed along my arms. His magnetism intrigued me, much to my annoyance.
“If it were, you wouldn’t have a chance in hell of winning,” he said without a trace of warmth reflecting in his cold eyes.
Something about this man made me rise to his unspoken challenge.
“I beg to differ. I tend to fight dirty.”
His eyes flashed. There was no humor, just raw steel. Awareness hummed through me.
“We’re not fighting, so you can relax. I just saw a beautiful woman and bought her a drink.”
His low, gravelly voice strummed over my body, and a vision of him whispering very kinky shit while fucking me flashed through my mind.
Shit!
I couldn’t look away from this arrogant ass. My creative streak wouldn’t allow it. He was a work of art. He wasn’t classically handsome or a pretty boy. He was very attractive in a rugged and dangerous way. He had eyes the color of steel, and I was fascinated by the way he watched me, like he could read my mind and knew exactly what I was thinking. And I was thinking of all sorts of filthy, dirty things that I’d bet he was well versed in doing.
“Is this your first time here at McKay?” One of his dark eyebrows cocked.
I squirmed from the dampness in my panties. “First and last.” I ignored my arousal and focused on him.
“Not your type of crowd?” The corner of his mouth twitched with suppressed amusement, but it was gone as soon as it had arrived.
“I don’t do kink clubs. I like my sexual exploits to be a little more private,” I retorted.
He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You have no idea what you’re missing, darling.”
My mouth parted at his words. My pussy clenched so hard my knees almost buckled. This wasn’t good. This was going way past the normal snarky-flirt-then-walk-away routine. Something about him intrigued me, and I couldn’t figure out what it was.
“Fuck,” I blurted, fighting the crazy impulse to lay myself at his feet.
He lifted his damn beautiful brow again, and I forced myself not to freak out from the pure sexiness of this man.
A small smile played on his lips. “Is that an invitation, darling?” He lifted my hand before I could stop him, and then he brushed his hard lips against the backs of my fingers. “Because I’m more than happy to accept.”
When I felt the nip of his teeth against my skin, my breathing became shallow and erratic. I quickly pulled my hand back. “It wasn’t an invitation. It was a statement.” I held up my mostly empty glass to my lips and tilted it, draining the contents for liquid courage. I was horrified and disgusted that my body was responding to this cocky bastard.
