Page 45 of The Crowned Garza
I hold back a laugh. He’s such a dick.
In five tentative steps, I’m at the desk. My thigh brushes his forearm when I prop my ass against the edge. “You know, I’m a little hurt I didn’t get a birthday gift from you.”
Lie. I received another anonymous gift. A gold necklace with a crown pendant encrusted in diamonds. Considering how well it paired with the charm bracelet from the year before, it wasn’t hard to guess the sender. But knowing he’ll never admit to his gifts, I’m using that as an opportunity to try my luck with something…
His tongue darts across his upper lip before his teeth briefly sink into it. A subconscious little act as he focuses on his work at hand. Nothing sexy or provocative about it. Yet here I sit, squeezing my thighs together.Ridiculous.
Why doesn’t my body behave like this with other men? Even with Will, as hot as our hookups are, my body never comes alive for him on sight. Not until we get to kissing and touching.
But this man? Bites his lip in concentration and it’s instant hotness and heaviness down south.
“Hmm,” he grunts distractedly. “What do you get the brat who already has everything she could possibly need?”
“I may have all I need,” I say, scooting my ass farther up on the desk, “but I don’t have everything I want.”
“Knowing you, whatever it is you want but don’t have, you don’t have it because it’s something you shouldn’t want.”
“You don’t know me as well as you think.”
He shifts his searing gaze to me. “I know you better than you know yourself, Tillie Amelia Garza. You see a big red ‘Don’t Push’ button, you push it and if you die, you die.That’swho you are.”
His stare punctures my lungs, leaving my breaths erratic. Did those eyes watch me when I got myself off in his bed? Did they stay on me as I writhed and trembled and moaned his name straight to climax?
With a shrug akin to a shiver, I try to shake off the fog of lustful heat shrouding me, choking and blinding me. “What can I say? Curiosity and I are besties.”
“Recklessness and self-destruction are also your bad-influencing cousins.”
Exaggerate much? Anyone would think I’m out there wilding out with drugs, alcohol, and speeding cars. But why bother arguing with him? He’s already made up his mind about me.
“I know what I want from you for my birthday gift,” I tell him.
“Your birthday was two days ago.”
“Belated gifts are a thing.”
“Not interested.” He returns his attention to the computer. “Go meet your drummer.”
I scoot my butt across the desk until I’m partially blocking the upper monitors and my leg is rubbing against his knee. “Why try to deny me when you know I’m stubborn?”
Saint sighs with open impatience and leans back. For a fraction of a second, his gaze drops to my miniskirt.
Subtly, I part my thighs just a sliver. If he wants a peek, he can have it.
His eyes are already back on my face, though. Staring me down. Or is he…waiting?
“For my belated birthday gift, I want...”
When I hesitate, he arches a brow at me.Yup, he’s waiting.
“I want a kiss. French.”
“Go back to Dom for that. I’m Italian.”
Ugh. He’s incorrigible. “You know what I mean. Tongue, the whole works.”
“How will the drummer feel about that?”
“What do I care? He owns no part of me.”
