Page 164 of Chaos Kills

He must have a death wish.

Because I didn’t think I needed to point it out, but he’s in South Shore and not behind his borders.

This isn’t going to go well.

He gestures to one of the stools behind the kitchen island before his attention lands down the length of me. “When’s the last time you showered?”

Wow.

Talk about charming and blunt.

“Why would I want to do that?” I press, erasing the space between me and the kitchen. “Especially since you made my panties wet the other night. I didn’t want to take them off.”

Okay, so I have showered.

Cairo has his timeline wrong because I’ve been wearing these exact pants for two days, and the last time he saw me, it was three.

Dipshit.

“Come here.” His tone is hard as he remains frozen in his spot as he gives the order, but he’s got me fucked up.

Several times before and now.

“No.”

His eyes narrow before he strides around the island, showing he’s annoyed I’d say something so scandalous and not follow his direct order.

“Say that again,” he commands, stopping within inches of my body and forcing my chin upward to face him head-on.

“Say what again?” I challenge. “Did you want them? Because I can go take them off?—”

“Shut up.”

“I think you’d like that.” I inch forward, a breath away from him because—stupid me—I want him to fuck me up against something nice and hard. “And I’d like to hear that you stroked your cock and wiped your cum all over them.”

His dark eyes go even darker, and I know I hit a nerve.

He’s hit several of mine, too. However, despite my attraction to him, it’s not in my best interest to involve another player.

One who wants me to take a Titan seat so he can sleep better at night.

“Would you do that for me, Little T? Slip your panties off for me so I can call you later while I’m doing it?”

Holy shit.

That would be fuckin’ hot.

“Depends if you brought me anything,” I manage to say without croaking. “You brought my sisters kittens without asking me. What did you bring me?”

“Dinner.”

I want so much more than dinner.

Calm your damn ass down, sis.

“Mhm,” I hum, acting as though I’m considering that. “What is it?”

“Pasta.”

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