Page 25 of Beautiful Beast

“You and Buster would be a lot better off trespassing on the fourth floor. You’d have way more luck,” Adam says. “The owner is a 20-something tech genius who created some app I’ve never heard of. Regardless, I’m sure he would be a lot more receptive to a sexy young woman like you constantly showing up at his door.”

“So, you think I’m sexy.”

“That’s the part you took from what I said?”

“I heard all of it, but the sexy comment was the highlight.”

“Just go back downstairs, okay?”

“What are you so afraid of?”

Adam advances on me in two long strides, and he’s so close that the heat radiating off his body makes my toes curl. He’s coiled like a predator, and while my mind is sending off alarm bells, I can’t move or look away.

Everything about this guy is a mystery, and a dangerous one.

But I still want to crack him.

Buster growls a warning, not liking when anyone gets too close to me. I rest my hand on his head to tell him that it’s okay, and he nuzzles into my leg.

“You want to see so fucking badly?” Adam challenges, anger lighting his electric blue eyes. “Are you sure? Do you know what my nickname is? The beast. So, you better be damn certain because there’s no going back, princess.”

Hesitation temporarily freezes me in place as my mind plays out all the different things that could be wrong with Adam. Maybe whatever it is looks horrific and I shouldn’t be trying to force him to reveal it before he’s ready.

Or maybe, the problem is all in his head and not actually a big deal.

Ariel is always telling me about the extra weight she’s carrying around her hips, but she’s the only one who notices it.

We’re our own worst critics, and someone like Adam who is used to looking like a god among men would inflate any small imperfection to epic proportions.

It’s nothing.

At least, I’m pretty sure it’s nothing.

“Are you too scared?” Adam taunts. “That’s exactly what I thought. Go home, princess.”

I tilt my chin and meet his gaze head-on. “I’mnotscared. Bring it on.”

Chapter 7

Adam

Icycoldpanicfloodsmy veins, and my breath gets stuck in my throat.

Usually when I advance on someone – all 6’3” and 230 pounds of me – they back up. But the pint-size Belle just stands there staring at me and waiting expectantly. Her trusty dog is right by her side and giving me a big toothy smile.

Belle is exactly the kind of girl pre-Syria me would be all over.

She’s too young for anything serious, but with her fiery passion and fierce determination, I imagine we would have a lot of fun together in my bed.

And now she wants to see my face.

My new and not-so-improved face.

I can’t do it.

There’s no way I can show her.

She’s so stunningly beautiful, and the thought of her turning away from me in disgust squeezes my chest in a vice grip of anxiety. I can deal with disdain, and I’m doing everything I can to create distance between us.

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