Page 70 of The Forbidden Note

I lift a dark brow, tilting my head so the water runs down the side of my face instead of right in front of me.

“Do you really want me to do that?” I challenge.

She struggles to keep her face angry, but it doesn’t work.

Her fingers tighten around my neck.

Her mouth parts.

She’s saying one thing, but her body’s telling a whole different story.

“Do you really want me to let you go?” I growl, walking her backward. My sneakers slosh into the wet puddles on the ground. My shirt sticks to my skin, showing off the outline of my abs.

Her eyes dip there and she licks her lips.

A sick, twisted smile unfurls.

I keep going until her back smacks against the wall. A wet,schloppingsound mingles with the patter of the shower. The ricochet sends her body jolting against me. Our hips brush and she lets out a little cry that whips a blaze in my blood.

“Tell me what you want, tiger. I’ll listen.”

She swallows hard. “I want…”

“What?” I swoop in, hovering my lips over hers.

Her eyes slide to half-mast and she tilts her chin up.

A dark chuckle vibrates through my chest.

“What you really want,” I bracket my hands on either side of her head so she knows I’m not the one keeping her here, so she knows that she’s here on her own, “is for me to make you beg the way you did that night.”

She moans softly, a sound that penetrates straight through my skin to my heart. The bathroom is hotter than before, and it has nothing to do with the steam from the shower.

“You say you want the light,” I lick at the drops of water on her shoulder, my voice dropping to a depraved whisper, “but why do I always find you in the dark next to me?”

Her skin is sweet on my tongue and I lick my way up to her ear.

The words, “I hate you” pass between her trembling brown lips.

“Say it again,” I whisper.

Her eyes glow with anger and desire. A strange mixture that glints like gold in her soft brown eyes. “I. Hate. You.”

“You hate me.” I slide my fingers down her jaw and wrap them around her throat. “You hate me…so much, that it kills you, doesn’t it?”

The steaming shower gets even hotter.

“Gracie!” Marian’s voice shatters the tension. “Are you finished showering? Come meet your brothers.”

Miss Jamieson’s face tightens. She wrenches my arms off her and skates out of the shower.

When she dips to pick up the towel, I get an eyeful of her glorious peach. She quickly wraps it away in the towel.

“I don’t care what you’re doing here. I don’t care what you want. Get out of my house while I’m asking nicely.”

I give her a cocky grin. “Sorry,sis. This is our home now. I’ll be seeing you every morning.” I push my hair back with a hand and drape both arms on the open shower door. “Every evening. And every…” I slip my eyes down the towel, “night.”

She gives me a scathing look and stomps out of the bathroom.

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