Page 74 of Frozen Hearts
“How closeyouare to coming in your panties.”
Air sticks to the inside of my lungs as his finger brushes feather-light over the scrap of fabric covering my pussy, and his chest rumbles when he discovers the answer to his question: far closer than I’d ever verbally admit.
Heat engulfs me, sucking all the oxygen from the room, and I launch off his lap as panic constricts my chest.
“Dance over,” I state, frantic and unable to hide how affected I am. How completely thrown off-kilter he has me.
Lazily pushing to his feet, he smirks. “Sure thing, James. Same time tomorrow.”
He moves to step away but pauses at my question. “Why?”
“Because you don’t want me to.”
I… what? How does that make any sense?
Does he have some sort of kink where he gets off on seeing me uncomfortable? On pushing my buttons? On dragging my sanity to the edge of a cliff and watching as he casts it over the side?
Confused, wrung out, and frustratingly turned on, I watch as he walks away.
“Girl!” Tara squeals when I step into the dressing room at the end of the night. “Why has Ruthless been paying you a visit?! Did something happen that night at The Depot? You were in the bathroom for an awfully long time.”
I snort, shaking my head. “Definitely not. The universe just hates me,” I grumble, tired and weary, as I wipe off my makeup.
“Huh?”
Huffing, I take a seat at my dresser and fill Tara in on how I have nowaccidentallyrun into the asshole three times, including that night at The Depot, and that he’s so obsessed with himself that he believes I’m stalking him.
“I mean, I couldn’t blame you if you were,” Tara says when I’m finished. “But, ugh, why are the hot ones always so full of hot air?” I snort out a laugh. “What are you going to do?”
“What can I do?” I nibble on my bottom lip as images of Ruthless sitting in that booth, legs spread as his gaze slowly wandered over my bare skin, cause a flush to bloom on my cheeks. There’s something about his close proximity, knowing his eyes are on me. The intensity in which he watches me. It’s terrifying and electrifying all at once. Makes me almost want to cast aside my insecurities and fall headfirst into whatever danger is lurking in those piercing eyes of his.
Recalling the way it felt to have his hands on my body elicits a shiver, snapping me out of my thoughts. Danger is exactly what I’m trying to avoid and Ruthless has heartbreak written all over him. Clearing my voice, I lift my gaze to meet Tara’s in the mirror. “All I can do is continue to dance for him when he comes in and hope he gets bored and moves on to someone new sooner rather than later.”
* * *
“I swear I’m still hungover from Friday’s party,” I overhear a girl at a nearby table in the library groan.
It’s a Sunday, and I like coming to the library on Sundays because it’s mostly dead. Admittedly, it’s the same today, but these two girls walked in half an hour ago and sat down at the table right beside mine. They haven’t shut up since. Nor do they have the common decency to whisper.
It’s a library, for Christ’s sake.
That’s like taking the Lord's name in vain inside a church. Everyone knows you just don’t do it.
Gritting my teeth, I glare at the question sheet in front of me as I re-read the same question for the third time.
“I saw you disappear with Todd,” that same grating tone says. The flimsy pen in my hand threatens to snap in two. “Spill. Does this year's captain have skills?”
“I’d give him an eight outta ten,” her friend answers, the two of them completely unaware of how degrading their conversation is. “Adequate length and width, and only needed minor help to reach the goal.”
They both titter, and I am wholly irritated now, so I lift my head to glare at them. Unsurprisingly, they look like typical Halston girls—stick thin, long, painted nails, primped hair, and glowing skin. They could almost be sisters, except one has waist-length platinum blonde hair while the other has a short, brunette bob.
Unfortunately, neither is looking my way, too busy gossiping with one another for the entire library to hear.
“I went to some of last year's games to cheer on my brother, and the quarterback washot.I was so disappointed to hear he wasn’t on the team anymore.” The brunette says—the one who didn’t fuck Todd, apparently. Her voice dips, taking on a coy quality. “I’d hoped he'd be at the parties so I could give his dick a whirl, but I haven’t seen him at a single one all year.”
“Are you talking about Royce King?” Blondie asks.
“Ugh, even his name is sexy as hell.”
