Page 7 of Dark Wishes

God, her voice makes my cock flex. Clutching the white towel in my fist I crush it until my fingertips go numb. She’s shifting on her heels—getting anxious. She has no clue I’m right behind her.

I could slip my hand lightly up her inner thigh if I want to.

I do want to.

A vicious tremble shakes me to my core. Rolling my shoulders, I stare at the ceiling, inhaling silently.Calm yourself. Remember the risks.

Remember what you still don’t know.

Selena’s sigh expands through the sink, echoing from there to my ears to my chest. I bite down, molars creaking, to keep myself from pouncing on her. But I can’t resist the urge to stalk forward until I’m looming over her. My hand lowers, hovering in the air above her ass. The veins on the back of my hand wind like snakes.

“You’re right behind me, aren’t you?” she asks.

I stop dead in my tracks. I’m close enough to see her shoulder blades rising and falling with every one of her breaths. “How did you know?”

“Just a guess.”

“Here,” I say, dropping the towel on her head.

Selena stands up with the towel wrapped around her hair. She holds it with one hand to keep it in place, glaring at me as she leans on the counter. “You don’t have to be this way.”

“What way?” I ask.

“This.” She waves her free hand at me in short, choppy motions. “First you were acting helpful... almost kind. Then you go and try to terrify me. Quit being erratic, it’s super annoying.”

My eyes run over the front of her shirt. Water from the sink has stained the red material darker, making it stick to her collar bone and her breasts. The hint of her hard nipples ignites my blood. “Which side of me do you prefer?” My tone is soft... silky... thick with a desire I desperately want to eradicate.

Her body presses against the counter, away from me. “Which do I prefer?”

“The helpful, or the terrifying,” I say patiently.

“Neither.” She answers too quickly. Her posture is defensive, especially when she releases the towel, arms crossing over herchest. She's trying to shelter herself from me. It’s too late—I can read her.

She wants me. Against all fucking logic shewants me.

This isn’t the information I was seeking...

But it’s worth investigating.

Chapter Three

Selena

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How can this huge house suddenly feel too small?

Jamison stands before me in his faded jeans, his black shirt stretching across his shoulders like a sail in the breeze. The way his hands hang by his hips belays casual comfort. Nothing in his stance says he’s ready to strike...

But my heart knows.

I push into the counter, the hard tile grinding along my spine. There’s nothing to grab for protection—nowhere to run. “Stop looking at me like that,” I whisper.

“Like what?” he muses, cocking his head.

“Like you’re about to bite me.”

His smirk is sharp; my body tenses, preparing to be sliced. “Is that what you imagine? My teeth on you?”

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