She’s fit, and her waist is so small that I swear it’s not possible for her to eat. My stomach is flat enough, but it’s nowhere near firm. I’m a mom who works full time. It’s not like I can spend all day in the gym.
Her hips are narrow, mine are curvy. Her breasts are small, mine… not so much. Maybe Wren is a boob guy.
Seriously… I have to stop this. I have to stop thinking about him in that way.
Silence falls outside until I hear a phone ringing, while I continue staring at my flaws versus Erica’s perfection.
“Allie,” Wren says, “I have to get this. I’ll be back in a minute.”
My eyes widen, and I jerk the door open. “Don’t leave me alone with fake-smiling girl,” I hiss quietly.
He looks up from his ringing phone, and his eyes widen on me until his gaze heats. The sweet look he normally carries is replaced by something… different. Raw, hungry, primal… I don’t know, but it’s hot as hell.
He walks forward, pushing through the door, and I stumble backwards. The mirror reflects me, and I gasp. I’m. So. Stupid. I’m in my damn underwear!
The door shuts, prompting me to look back just as Wren’s jaw ticks.
“Sorry. Didn’t want everyone out there seeing you,” he says in a strained voice.
We’re alone. In a fitting room. Just him and me. And I’m in pink lacy underwear.
His hand comes up to my chin, tilting my face up until our eyes are locked, and he stares down at me like he’s about to do something crazy. I swallow hard, silently beckoning him to make the first move, even though we both know exactly how reckless and stupid it would be—not to mention selfish.
“We can’t do this,” he finally whispers, but I think he’s talking more to himself than me. He curses, but suddenly he shoves me against the wall roughly, and my hands fly to his shoulders to steady myself, while his hands move to my hair, tugging my head back as he stares into my eyes.
Yep. That’s definitely hunger in his eyes. I know it, because that’s the same way I feel right now. I’ve never wanted someone to kiss me as badly as I want him to kiss me right now.
The second my body presses against him, he groans, clearly struggling with some internal war—the same one I’m facing. An ache forms between my thighs, and since I’m apparently mute, all I can do is breathe hard, hoping, waiting, silently begging. I. Can’t. Move. I’m frozen to this spot.
“Oh!” the nervous girl stammers, and Wren jumps back like he’s just been burned. “I’m so sorry.”
Wren curses while moving aside, and he clutches the door as the nervous girl scurries around to hang up the newest dresses she’s brought in. And I just stand here in my underwear because my heart is barely staying encased by my chest right now.
“I need to make a call. I’ll be right back,” he says, and then he abandons me. This time, I don’t try to stop him.
What the hell am I doing? I can’t fuck Wren Prize in the fitting room of a regaled store.
He’s Angel’s father. He’s Angel’s father. He’s Angel’s father.
I keep repeating it in mantra, reminding myself why I can’t touch Wren Prize. But touching Wren Prize… No. I can’t. I can’t dream about having him touch me, hold me, and take me in the ways I fantasize about, because it would ruin everything.
Turning around, I pick out a dress, completely ignoring the nervous girl as she runs out and leaves me alone. Staring in the mirror, I take in the blush on my cheeks, the hair that looks like it’s been in a windstorm, and hunger in my eyes that matches the look he had.
I’m so screwed.
Chapter 15
WREN
I’m such an idiot. Why the hell did I practically attack Allie in the damn fitting room?
Fucking small space. Fucking tempting mouth. Fucking sweet smell. Fucking beautiful tits. Fucking mirrors giving me every angle of her sexy body. Fucking. Pink. Lace.
“Hey,” Tag answers, picking up on the third ring.
“You called?” I ask, clearly annoyed, but I can’t help it. Fucking hard-on.
“You pissed or something?” he asks.
“No,” I growl, cursing when I’m forced to adjust my cock against my jeans.
Fucking jeans.
“Ah… Saw this coming,” the dick says, sounding so damn smug for some reason.
“Saw what coming?” I ask absently, looking over my shoulder to make sure Allie isn’t out here in her pink lace underwear.
She’s not. Thankfully. Her lightly tanned skin looked so tempting. I wanted to taste every inch of her. Take her and push her against those damn mirrors while I—
“Allie has you frustrated. I saw it coming,” Tag says, and I practically choke on my own tongue.
“What?” I ask, my voice off.
He laughs, mocking me with that laugh. “You know, all these years of knowing you, I’ve been waiting to watch someone—anyone—get under your skin. My dad got under mine. Billy got under mine. Then Ash fucking ruined me. But you… No one has ever really gotten a rise out of you, Mr. Control Freak. Now someone is. And this shit is getting more interesting by the second.”