Page 8 of Tangled Rose

“I bet you wanted to join us. Admit it.”

Time to take back control of the conversation.I laugh, pushing myself to a kneeling position on the bed, and quirk an eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

His eyes drop to my chest, then further down to my hot pink boy-short panties. I almost miss it, but he swallows, very, very carefully, like he’s trying his best not to let me know that I’ve affected him. That he is indeed looking.

I glance down at his joggers, which are beginning to show a distinct bulge. Mm-hmm. “Somebody wanted me to join you, but it wasn’t me.” I climb off the bed and walk closer to him, crossing my arms over my chest—which I’m well aware pushes my breasts up for his viewing pleasure. “I think it was your dick.” Stopping about a foot away, we engage in a stare down of intense proportions—I’ve never experienced such potency before.

His quick intake of breath and the set of his jaw have me smiling. “What’s wrong, Beau?”

He remains silent, brown eyes wandering down over my body again. Everywhere they travel, I feel him.

“See something you like? Wait, what was it you said to me earlier? Oh, that’s right. Take a photo. It’ll last longer.” With that, I unfold my arms and shove against his chest, forcing him back, and shut the door in his face.

Walking back over to my bed, I feel satisfied with how that went—but only for a few minutes before it gives way to frustration. I remember how his eyes glowed with a hunger in them and how quickly his beast of a cock had gotten hard as I stood in front of him, taunting him. Denying that I’d also felt something would be straight-up lying to myself. The energy between us crackled. And his smile? Total panty melter. There’s something else about him that I can’t quite put my finger on, but I feel drawn to him.

I’m not sure I want to find out what that means … or the trouble it could cause me.

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