Page 26 of Ruined Vows
And I respect him.
He didn’t treat me like a girl. He treated me like an equal. And damn him, I respect the hell out of that. And worse? He enjoyed every minute of the match.
Even now, I feel his gaze flick to me as we slide through the streets, but I keep my eyes focused on the scenery outside the window.
“You’re quiet,” he says, his voice is velvet-wrapped steel.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I bite. “I’m thinking.”
He chuckles, deep and low, and damn it, that’s not a turn-on as well. “Careful, Princess. That kind of silence usually means surrender,” he purrs.
And I love the sound of his voice. But I can’t let him know that.
I keep telling myself to resist. I refuse to concede to him. There are only nine dates left. I can do this.
“Surrender?” I snap my head toward him. “You think this was a win?” I huff.
“I know it was.”
But now, he’s smug. So smug, I want to slap him. Or kiss him—or both.
The car turns onto my street and slows. The temperature inside the car puts a 120-degree heat index to shame.
“Next time,” I warn, “I won’t go easy.”
“I hope not. I don’t want it to be easy.”
And by it, he means winning me. Damn him! He banters, he flirts. He’s incorrigible. He’sperfect.
This is only date one. I’ll bounce back. I’ll regroup. I have time to piss him off.
Silence hangs like it does before the agony of defeat. Only this time, it’s insufferable.
We roll to a stop at my condo building. I reach for the door, but his hand presses lightly on my thigh as if he doesn’t want me to go.
But that’s ridiculous. He can’t be into me. This is a game, and he’s compelled to win. That’s all it is—a battle of wills.
But when his hand reaches for mine, my heart stops. His hands are strong, wielding power and reminding me he’s in control.
His voice drops, and his words are slow and deliberate. “You know what I kept thinking about every time you threw a punch?”
I say nothing. Because if I do, I might give too much away.
“I kept thinking about how good you’d look on your knees.”
My breath catches, and I close my eyes. He can’t read them if they’re closed.
Damn him. He’s so smooth. Too smooth. I’m sure he has women eating out of his hands with lines like this.
But Internally?
I’m an inferno.
I want to fuck him. I could climb into his lap right here and now. I want to ride his stiff cock and release the desire that impregnates every fiber of my being.
His lips brush the shell of my ear.
“Not begging,” he whispers. “Just waiting.”
