Page 2 of Unwrap Me After Dark
“Someone’s in a mood,” he says, cocking his head to the side. “What, not happy about our forced family bonding?”
I turn away, pushing back into the house. “Thrilled. Couldn’t you tell?”
Tyler follows, too close behind me. I can feel the heat from his body, the displacement of air as he moves. He’s always done this—invaded my space, pushed boundaries, found the exact distance that makes me uncomfortable and then closed it further.
“Nice place.” He drops his bag by the door and scans the cabin. His eyes catch on the hallway. “Bedrooms down there?”
“I’ve already claimed the master,” I inform him, crossing my arms over my chest.
Something flashes in Tyler’s eyes—a spark of challenge that makes my muscles tense. He walks past me, brushing against my shoulder, and heads down the hallway. I follow, watching as he peeks into the smaller bedroom, then pushes open the door to the master. My duffel sits on the bed, a clear marker of territory.
Tyler turns to me, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, you think you get the master bedroom?”
I plant my feet, squaring my shoulders. “I got here first. Deal with it.”
“First come, first served isn’t how this works, Liam.” He steps closer, and I resist the urge to back away. “You should’ve learned that by now.”
“I’m not scared of you,” I spit out.
“No?” Tyler drops his bag, the thud punctuating the challenge in his eyes. He takes another step toward me. “You really wanna fight me for it?”
His voice is low, almost a purr, but there’s steel underneath. A dare. My heart pounds against my ribs, but I stand my ground. This is how it always starts between us—this push and pull, this test of wills. If I back down now, it sets the tone for the entire week.
“I’m not backing down,” I state.
The corner of Tyler’s mouth twitches. Then he lunges.
I have half a second to react before his hand clamps around my throat, pushing me backward. My arms shoot out, shoving against his chest, but he’s built like a rock. My back slams into the wall beside the bedroom door, the impact knocking a grunt from my lungs.
“Get off me,” I snarl, twisting in his grip.
Tyler just tightens his hold on me, eyes alight with that familiar fire. “Make me.”
I drive my knee up, aiming for his groin, but he blocks with his own leg. The collision is painful. We’re locked together, struggling for dominance, his chest pressed against mine. His hammering heart matches the rapid tempo of my own.
“You never learn, do you?” Tyler taunts, his breath hot against my ear.
I gather all my strength and shove him backward, creating a sliver of space between us. He’s taken by surprise, and his hand around me loosens. But Tyler recovers quickly, hands grabbing my shoulders. We grapple, each trying to gain advantage. My foot catches on the edge of a rug, and Tyler seizes the moment, using my momentary imbalance to sweep my legs out from under me.
We crash to the floor in a tangle of limbs. The impact knocks the wind from my lungs, but I barely have time to register the pain before Tyler’s weight settles on top of me. He grabs both my wrists, pinning them above my head with one powerful hand. His other forearm braces across my chest, holding me down.
“Give up?” he asks, not even breathing hard.
I buck beneath him, trying to throw him off. “Fuck you.”
The movement brings our bodies into closer contact, and something shifts in Tyler’s expression. His eyes darken, his smirk faltering for just a fraction of a second. We freeze, aware of every point where we connect.
His weight on my hips
My wrists captured in his grip.
The pressure of his arm across my chest.
Our faces inches apart.
Time stretches, elastic and strange. I can count Tyler’s eyelashes. Can see the flecks of gold in his brown irises. Can feel the rise and fall of his chest against mine.
“Careful, baby bro,” he murmurs, his voice husky and amused, but with something else beneath it. “I might think you provoke me on purpose.”
