So, our first teaser (to celebrate 500 likes on our Facebook page – remind us to never do THAT again). It’s a bit longer so it’s more of an excerpt?
Either way, this is unedited, subject to change.
I don’t know why I knock on her door before I unlock it. She’s nowhere in sight but I hear the shower running. I put the tray down on the bedside table, and take a seat in the same chair in the corner.
I scan the room. Nothing looks out of place, but I’m sure she turned it upside down trying to find a way out or something to defend herself. Or attack with. I spot the tray with uneaten dinner. Smart girl, no doubt about it.
A couple of minutes later she walks out wearing a silky bathrobe, her wet hair hanging all the way to her waist. It’s a tangled mess of ebony as she runs her fingers through it and then twists it up and over her shoulder. Her back is turned to me and for a second I just take in the elegant way she moves, her feet making no sound as she makes her way across the room, my eyes trailing up her toned calves and higher to the hem of the robe.
She stills for a moment when she sees the tray of food, but then she doesn’t acknowledge me at all. She unties the sash, letting the material fall down her shoulders. My eyes linger on the curve of her neck, and then follow the robe as it slips further down. She trails her fingers down her side, her every move so deliberate. I can almost feel her soft flesh under my fingertips as my eyes follow the path of her hands.
I hate what it does to me. I should never think of her body as something so perfect. I know there’s a reason I should just stand up and walk out of the room but I can’t remember any of it right now.
I’m so lost in all of it, I don’t even notice she stopped moving. She turns around and pins me with her icy blues, unashamed that all of her is on display. I recognize the look she’s giving me, daring me. Come here, she says with those eyes. Touch me.
And I hate it that I can’t let myself have her, because I know it’s all a game to her. So calculated.
I clear my throat and avert my gaze, hating myself for this moment of sudden weakness. I inspect the wall on my right, while she walks over to the bed and puts some clothes on.
“Devon.” My name on her lips, it grates on my nerves. She sounds a lot more composed than she did last night, even though she was putting up a front. I wouldn’t expect anything less from her.
“Leighton,” I say, testing out her name. I try to put some venom in it but it just doesn’t sound like a curse. I stand up, and her eyes snap to my crotch, my erection still clearly visible, drawing a satisfied little smirk on her lips. I walk over to the door and open it to leave.
“It’s safe,” I say, pointing to the food on the bedside table before I walk out and lock her in again.