Page 46 of Redeeming the Villain

Fuck, I shouldn’t be standing outside of her door right now. I need to actually find the bathroom and then pass the hell out in the Kensingtons’ room.

I don’t even know how I ended up here. One moment, I was taking shots with Asher and Dean in their room, and the next, I’m standing in front of Alora’s room, questioning whether or not I should knock.

Is she sleeping?

Does she sleep naked, like me?

I can’t imagine how perfect her bare body is. Those luscious curves. Fuck, I want to taste them, devour them. I want to know exactly what it’s like to feel her thighs wrap around my neck. To hear what she sounds like, coming apart by my touch. I need it. I need her.

What the fuck is wrong with me right now?

I smack my forehead, hoping to hit the dirty images of her out of my head. But it doesn’t work.

I need to go back to the room and lock myself inside because the thoughts running through my mind are going to get me in trouble. Like thoughts of how red her cheeks were earlier when I had her caged against the door. I wonder how red she’d get if I slid my hand around her throat and claimed her lips with mine.

Or how flushed she’d become if I tasted every inch of her soft skin until she melted into my grasp, writhing with pleasure.

My cock twitches in my joggers, making my boxers uncomfortably snug.

Fuck.

My body is floating in midair, every cell tingling as I stand on the precipice of crossing a line or not.

I drank too much. Way too much to be trying to make a decision like this.

Hearing the sound before I look up, I find my fist against her door.

Oh shit, I just knocked.

Malik, I’m going to need you to get it together right now, okay?

Pressing my ear against the door, I don’t hear anything. It’s quiet. She’s probably sleeping. Which is a good thing. She shouldn’t open this door. I’m way too out of control.

My hand knocks again with a mind of its own, and I start to wonder if this is all a dream because there’s no way I would do this in real life.

“I-hear-something,” I mumble, my words one continuous slur.

The lock clicks on the door, and it gently gives way, as does my weight.

I fall forward as the door swings inward.

“Ahh!” Alora shrieks as I crash into her. But I catch her, stabilizing her against the wall before I drop to the floor. “Malik? What the hell are you doing here?”

My eyes drift shut, only for a moment before I sit up and struggle to my feet. “What areyoudoing here?”

I chuckle to myself.

“You’resodrunk,” she sighs. “And I have no idea what you’re doing here, but you need to get the hell out of my room.”

She crosses her arms, and my vision finally clears enough to notice her fully.

My mouth waters at the sight of her before me. Her cami red silk top does little to contain the full, round weight of her tits, her nipples poking through the thin fabric, begging to be brushed by my thumbs.

The bottom of her top is bunched together, just above the waistband of her matching shorts, leaving a gap that exposes her bare skin. My eyes travel lower, down over the red silk to those plump, full thighs that I want to dive between.

My God, she’s perfect. Every single inch of her.

My fingers twitch, desperate to reach out and stroke her smooth skin.

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