Page 26 of The Masks We Burn

This makes me chuckle. “Why do you automatically think you’re gonna win, bunny?”

Her pouty mouth pops open, but she gets cut off by thedingof an elevator. We walk inside together, but once we are out of view and the door slides shut, she untangles her arm from mine and leans against the bar lining the wall.

Ah, so for appearances, then.

It makes sense, seeing how we areengaged, though for some reason, I find it a little disappointing. I shouldn’t. The girl is fire on wheels, but I’m starting to like the heat.

“So, what’s this bet?” Amora asks, reapplying another layer of lipstick over her lips in the reflective panel of the elevator as I press the number nine.

“Forgiveness.”

“What?” She whirls around, getting caught up in her dress. It must frustrate the hell out of her because she yanks the delicate fabric right, a few choice words falling from her mouth. I fake a cough, stifling a laugh at the cuteness in her rare show of clumsiness.

“If I win tonight, I want your forgiveness.”

Amora shoves a hand on her hip, her brows furrowed. “Okay, first of all, you’re going to win. I mean, look at you.” She gestures up and down my body with her free hand, and pride expands my smile. “Second, forgiveness isearned,asshat.”

Defeat curls deep into my chest, making my pectoral muscle ache. It’s only been a week, but I am over her hostility. I’m not asking to be friends, but it would be nice to not have her activelytryingto hate me—which I one thousand percent believe she’s doing. Too many times have I caught her sly smiles, or playful eye rolls. She doesn’twantto dislike me, but I hurt her ego and she’s damn good at holding a grudge.

The elevator dings and we exit together, though I fall behind her and follow her until we reach my room, another idea coming to the surface. “What about a truce, then?”

She moves aside, giving me more than enough space to type my birthday on the keypad. The door unlocks, opening automatically, and Amora enters first. When she passes, the faint aroma of lavender and something else flowery invades my airways. I shouldn’t like it.

But I do.

Just as I’m tempted to take in a deep breath, Amora whirls around, her bottom lip stuck under her teeth. “How many hits does it take to knock someone out?”

This surprises me, and I shrug, finally stepping inside the luxury suite. Like the foyer, it’s all gold and white, low lighting, with all the fancy fixtures. One queen bed sits in the center where I toss my bag. I do remember John saying the room is mine, should I need to stay a couple of days after the fight.

“Depends on where they’re hit and how hard. One punch could do the job if it’s in the perfect spot.”

Amora cringes a bit and gnaws into her lip more. Without a thought, I step forward, invading her space and tugging the poor thing free. She freezes, her eyes flicking down to my mouth, then to my gaze. It’s a stilled moment where no time passes and everything else blurs in the background.

“A truce, or,” she whispers, stepping so close her breasts graze against my chest. I can feel her pebbled nipples through her thin dress, and my entire body goes rigid, every drop of blood I have running to my dick.

Fuck.

She trails a sharp nail up my arm, and I have to consciously focus on not succumbing to the lightning working its way down my spine. “A kiss.”

My instinct is to pull away and give her a smart-ass remark, or perhaps just kiss her now, but I know Amora well enough to know this is a power play. And I’m no fool.

I decide to play along because I need her to know I’m no pawn in this game of chess.

“Where? Here?” I run my index finger under her still swollen bottom lip before letting my voice drop. “Or here?” My hand falls and I slide it to the open slit in her dress, dragging it over where I saw the butterfly wing. The heat from her core envelops my hand, and I don’t bother holding back a groan from slipping out.

And just like that, I call check, forcing the queen to step back, else I claim her ass right now. She tries to make her face passive, annoyed even, but her delicate skin is flushed, nipples peeking from behind her dress, and the ragged breathing gives her away.

“Win, we call a truce. Lose, kiss whichever lips you want.” Her voice is thick with desire, and it takes everything in me to stay planted where I stand.

This attraction is getting too damn strong, and for my own good, I need to take a reflective step back. I mean, I’ve always thought she was gorgeous, but I never wanted to fuck someone as badly as I want to completely destroy her cocky little ass. It could be her sassy mouth, maybe our mutual snarkiness toward each other, or it could be the way she makes my blood soar. But whatever it is, something makes me want her way more than I should, and in no scenario do my odds look good for exploring it.

We are both one-time fling type people, so if it were to happen, everything after would be… I’m not sure. But I also don’t want to find out. I’d rather keep it about what we need.

After a few more lingering seconds, I nod, granting her a wink.

“Hmm. Well, good luck either way.” Amora turns on her heels, opening the door and slipping out, leaving only her scent lingering behind.

Maybe once. When all this is over, and we go back to being strangers, maybe then we could have at it.

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