I shoot King a text telling him to get our parents off the porch, and then I head into the bathroom to shower. I hear a few more words before I close the door. “I may have done some stupid shit in my life, but I’ve never lost one of our kids. This one really takes the cake, Tony.”
I slam my bathroom door as hard as I can and slide under the spray of hot water, wanting to disappear into the steamy cocoon of oblivion. A bath would be better, but I don’t have time for that this morning. Instead, I sing Halsey and force myself to think of anything other than my parents’ latest argument.
The water shuts off abruptly, and cool air hits my body at the same moment. My eyes fly open, and a cry escapes me. Devlin stands in my bathroom, so close I could reach out and touch the hard planes of his chest and abs through his grey T-shirt…
So close he could reach out and touch me—slippery wet, completely naked, and still steaming from the hot water trickling over my skin.
“Get out,” he says, his voice hard and sharp.
But his eyes are molten on my skin, burning into me with a desire that terrifies and excites at once. My nipples harden under his gaze, and I can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He yanks his gaze back to mine, grabs a towel, and shoves it roughly into my hands.
“Get out,” he says again, and this time, the businesslike tone in his voice makes it to his eyes.
At last, I find my own voice. “You get out,” I snap, wrenching the towel around my body. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m taking a shower inmybathroom, inmyhouse.”
“I don’t care what you were doing,” he says, grabbing my arm and dragging me out of the shower. “Now you’re coming with us.”
“Us?” I ask, balking. “I don’t think so.”
Without a word, Devlin drags me out of the bathroom into my bedroom where, I’m relieved to see, there’s no one else waiting.
“Get dressed,” he says.
“Yeah, because that’s really going to happen with you standing right there.”
“We’ve gone over this,” he says, sounding slightly annoyed. “I’ve seen you naked. I’ve seen plenty of other tits and asses. Now, get dressed.”
“Way to make a girl feel special,” I mutter, turning away from him and yanking open my dresser.
“I’m not trying to make you feel special,” he says. “I’m trying to make you stop thinking that you are.”
“Well, you’re doing a bang-up job of it,” I snap. “I guess you’ve got what you were after. I’m nothing but another hole for you to wet your dick in. Got it. Loud and clear.”
He grunts in response.
“The real question is,” I go on, dropping the towel and shoving aside piles of lace and satin to choose a pair of white cotton panties that he can’t possibly think are sexy. “If I’m so very, very unspecial, as you like to say I am, then why are you here? Because I’m not the psycho stalker who broke into your house and climbed in the shower with you.”
I slide on a white bra, adjust my breasts inside it, and turn to face him. He doesn’t say anything. He’s staring at me with such complete indifference that I almost believe him. Almost.
“You know what I think?” I ask, prowling toward him.
If he wants to play this game, I’ll fucking play it. I may not have experience with guys, but Veronica taught me a thing or two about fucking with people’s heads. I swore I’d never do those things again, but here we are, and it’s the only weapon at my disposal.He started it, but two can play this game. As he said, all’s fair in love and war.
And this is fucking war.
“Aren’t you going to play along?” I ask, stopping in front of him. I rest my fingers against his chest and lean up like I’ll kiss him, but he stands tall, his chin rising a bit so he can look down at me with bored, hooded eyes.
God, why is he so fucking hot when he’s being a dick?
I let my fingers slide down from his chest, over his abs, relishing the way they tense under my touch. I want to go lower, to wrap my fingers around his thick hardness. But I won’t. I have to keep my head in the game, just like he is, even though my heart is hammering and my mouth waters at the thought of touching him. Would he let me taste him this time?
Heat surges between my thighs, making my knees clench together to relieve some of the ache.
Devlin stands like a statue, his whole body tensed, waiting for my next move. I stop at his belt, run a fingernail lightly along his abdomen right above the waistband of his navy uniform slacks. I can feel the goosebumps rise on his skin through his dress shirt.
“I think I should be thanking you,” I whisper.
For a second, he doesn’t move. Then he smirks the tiniest bit. “Yeah?” he says. “I bet most girls don’t get to say they had a massive orgasm their first time.”