Page 20 of Sweet Hate
Of course, the twat can’t leave it there.
“Sorry to inform you that the handyman is busy. Indefinitely.”
Axel’s cold clipped tone draws me short, and I spin back around to face him. There’s a set to his jaw I know well. He could be a stubborn little shit at times, and apparently, he didn’t grow out of it.
“Let me guess, you’re the handyman?”
A stupid grin spreads across his handsome face as he braces an arm on the door frame, causing those damn abs to ripple.
I can’t contain the shiver that runs through me at the sight.
Why did he have to turn into some rippling Herculean sex god just begging to be licked?
Goddamnit, no.
Traitorous body. The hussy.
Clearly, I need to get laid. Not by this idiot, I might add.
Bollocks, somehow, we’re practically nose to nose. I’m not sure if I was drawn to him in an ab drunk haze or if his belligerent ass moved toward me, but this chump isn’t going to intimidate me.
He must have forgotten that I refuse to back down from a dare.
“That's real mature of you, Verona. I can see you’ve grown into a fine, upstanding gentleman. A real pillar of the community.”
A wicked smirk spreads across his face.
“Baby, there’s nothing about me that grew up to be a gentleman.”
The lack of space between us makes his damn words even more potent. Why does it suddenly feel hot in here? This weird reaction to him and his body parts needs to stop. Really, I want nothing more than to smack that stupid smirk off his face.
“Yeah, I see that. The regression is real. I’m not sure if it’s too much smoke inhalation or too many hours in the gym, but you might want to get that checked.”
His eyes burn as he stares me down. His brow quirks, and I zero in on his tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip. That one tiny move has my heart rate kicking up a notch as his eyes drop to my lips.
Oh my God, I know that look.
Excitement wars with defiance in my gut. I don’t know what I want anymore. My brain and my body are locked in a battle of wills leaving me frozen under the assault of his freshly-showered scent. At least from this vantage point, I can see his chest heaving, so I know he’s not entirely unaffected.
Good. Bring it, asshole.
If I’m going down, I’m taking him with me.
He leans even closer, running his nose along the length of mine.
My breath catches in my throat, my whole body nearly combusting.
No wonder he’s a damn firefighter. With the heat he’s packing he has to be.
And I can confirm based on firsthand experience, that he knows how to use his hose.
Pressing his forehead to mine sends me spiraling, the feel of his warm skin touching mine almost intoxicating.
Until he opens that damn mouth again.
“I don’t think you heard me over the cogs turning in thatpretty little head of yours, Hurricane. The handyman is busy. Indefinitely. Find someone else.”
The door slam that follows is both rude and unnecessary.
