Page 33 of Stand Your Ground
Livia eyed the pup over her shoulder before turning back to me. “What I want, and what most other women want, is for youto show me that one look has already driven you out of your mind. I want to see how badly you want me, but I don’t want you to make a joke of it. I want to feel your desire, your restraint. We don’t need clever. We needreal.”
She took three, slow, purposeful steps toward me then, the heels of her boots tapping against my floor in a way that scratched an itch in my brain. She was an inch taller than me at the moment, with me barefoot and her wearing those boots, and she tilted her head at me, tongue toying with the corner of her lip as she sized me up.
“Try again,” she purred.
And I knew without asking that it was a demand — not a request.
Livia walked past me, opened and shut my door, and then knocked again.
Poor Zamboni lost his mind, and I assured him he’d be free as soon as I passed this test. I waited until he calmed before I opened the door.
Livia stood there just like before, and this time, I tried to lean into her instruction, to do what she’d asked. I let my eyes trail the length of her as my brain whirred to catch up, and I thought I might have actually won the lottery in thislesson, since it meant I got to unabashedly check her out again.
Focus.
Listen to your gut.
Say what you really feel.
Bereal.
Don’t choke.
That last internal thought was one all too familiar, one that stung like a snake bite. It was impossible to escape its teeth that sank into me, but I did my best not to show it on the outside.
I leaned into the doorframe, lifting one arm to rest above me, the other hanging loose at my side. She was so close I couldsmell the sweet warmth of her perfume — something woodsy and dark, with a hint of citrus that made my mouth water.
“Damn, baby,” I murmured, letting the words roll out low and gruff.
I paused, eyes dragging over every inch of her again before I met her gaze, dead-on.
“You walk up lookin’ like that and the only thought in my head is how the hell I’m supposed to survive you.”
It took every ounce of willpower I had not to smirk in victory when I heard her breath hitch, when I saw her lips part just a centimeter as her eyes flicked between mine. When her gaze fell to my mouth, I knew I’d won.
“Better,” she breathed, and then tilted her head higher in defiance. “But try again. Less poetic. More…man.”
I leaned in just a breath closer, jaw tight, voice rough.
“Fuck, Liv,” I muttered, voice as raw as I felt inside. I shook my head, reaching out and hooking my finger through the belt loop of her shorts. “Look at you.”
She wet her lips. “Good.”
“Get in here. I need my hands on you.”
I punctuated that request with a slight tug on her belt loop, enough to have her leaning forward and into my space, to have my lips just barely brushing hers.
“Much better,” she breathed.
And then she shoved me away, making me stumble backward as she marched back inside and shut the door behind us.
I was still reeling from the electricity of the moment, blinking repeatedly as a laugh barreled out of me. But Livia was all the way inside now, making herself right at home as she poured us two glasses of wine and nodded toward Zamboni in his crate.
“Let him out,” she said.
“You sure?” I asked, hesitant as I made my way to the crate. “He’s just a pup still, pretty energetic. I’ve got him in a training school, but to be honest, he doesn’t listen worth a crap.”
Livia was completely unfazed, swirling her wine as she leaned a hand on the counter. “Open it.”
