Page 45 of Tangled in His Game

“You’re drugged out of your mind. You don’t know what you want.”

“I’m not... No,” he mumbles, removing the towel from his forehead.

“Victor...”

He grimaces, then he lifts himself up and throws up into the trash can. I hand him the towel so he can clean himself up, and then I gently pull him back down on the bed.

As I start to rise to my feet, Victor catches my wrist.

“Please don’t go,” he whispers, and there’s something in his eyes that I can’t identify.

Fear? Or is it just confusion?

“I’m going to get you another towel, okay?” I pry his fingers off my arm. “I’ll be right back.”

He gives me a long look that makes me think he doesn’t believe me. I head to the bathroom, and when I return, his eyes are closed.

But as I settle on the bed again and put the wet towel on his forehead, his eyes open. He grabs me and pulls me to him, and I gasp as I end up straddling him.

“Victor, no.” I grasp his wrists and pin them at the sides of his head.

He bites down on his lip as he looks at me through his eyelashes. “Then why are you here?”

Fuck. Why is my core tingling again? There’s just something about our bodies together right now, and in the way he’s looking at me that makes me all hot and bothered.

Wrong timing, Noemi.

Wrong fucking timing.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

“I’m here because you’re sick,” I say.

He laughs. “I can be if you want me to be.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Is this you starting to feel better or are you still hallucinating?”

“Rub yourself over my cock and ask me again.”

I groan and roll my eyes at him before letting go of him and rolling to the other side of the bed. “You’re fine again.”

“Look at me, Emi. I’m always fine. You know that. That’s why you can’t take your eyes off me.”

Emi? Seriously? Using my nickname now as if we are... close? Intimate? Lovers?

I run my hand over my face. “This isn’t happening,” I mumble as I glance at the tent in his pants.

“It is, because you can’t stay away from me.” He grins at me.

Well, I should be relieved. He’s fine, and he’s not going to suffer any serious damage. I haven’t killed him, which is great. As for the state of his remaining two brain cells... It’s hard to say.

Just as I push myself up, someone bangs on the door. Hard. My heart skips a beat.

“Victor! Open the fucking door!” someone shouts, and it sounds like Jake.

Victor’s eyes go wide as he sits up. “Hide!”

I don’t know what’s going on, but I grab my bag and race to the window. As I part the drapes and open the window, the banging continues.

---