Page 112 of The Villain

I look over his shoulder with a frown, not stopping my movements as Shade stands frozen.

“Spare room.”

Trevor jerks his chin in acceptance and walks away.

“Evie,” Shade whispers in a tight voice.

“Start your list.” I draw away from him and leave the room.

Every time I see him I find a way to touch him. Sometimes innocent, sometimes not. If someone is in the room I brush his arm. Touch his cheek. Clasp his hand. If he’s alone I push his shirt up to scrape my nails down his back. I suck his neck to leave a mark. My fingers dip into the waistband of his pants in a taunt before I pull away.

A game that’s fun and frustrating at the same time. It has the bonus of giving him the attention he craves. He’s anticipating every touch now. His smile doesn’t dim again as we work.

A truck stops to deliver a new mattress for the bed and haul the old one away.

“You have this set up so well that we aren’t needed,” Trevor says with a frown.

“I never thought you’d be here,” I shrug and readjust the mattress. “I’ve never had deliveries go this smoothly before.”

“We’ll be here, South,” he says in a dark tone that brings my head up. “We’re with Tera.”

I tilt my head in confusion. “I know.”

“You’re ok with that?”

“She’s happy. It’s all that matters.”

He gives me a frown and nods as he walks away.

I unpack the box of new sheets and begin unwrapping them to throw in the washing machine.

I’m busy with that when Shade corners me in the laundry room.

He stands in the doorway with a smile that I return. Then he reaches for the top of the doorframe, his shirt rising to reveal his unzipped pants. His boxers are on display as he sways toward me, gripping the frame.

“Know this one?” he says in a playful tone.

“You haven’t unpacked the DVDs yet, have you,” I huff a laugh and walk up to him to slide my fingers into his boxers. “You’re a pirate today?”

He groans softly as my hand works his shaft.

“I approve, statue. Did you pack your pajamas? I can’t wait to see them on my floor.”

“Baby,” he presses a soft kiss to my lips. “I’m supposed to say shit like that.”

“Whenever you want,” I tell him gently, my grip tightening like he showed me this morning. “You can tell me anything you want.”

I let him go, carefully tucking him back in his underwear while he pants against my lips.

“I want to fuck you all over our house,” he says in a gritty tone. His eyes have darkened as he watches me for my reaction.

“You will,” I kiss him, a gentle press with a smile. “But we have to wait.”

“This is fucking torture.”

“Good,” I huff a laugh.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He grins, not angry at all, just curious.

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