“I’m good,” I lie, my voice thin, my body already giving me away.
He steps forward, each step pushing the air out of my lungs.
By the time he reaches me, I’m backed into the dresser
His hands find my waist, firm and familiar.
“You’ve been giving me looks all morning,” he murmurs.
“So have you,” I whisper.
He laughs softly, pulling me closer to him.
“I’ve been thinking,” he whispers, mouth against my ear.
“About what?”
“That I’m not going to have you under my roof anymore.”
His fingers trail down, and I can feel the weight in his words—his sadness—because it mirrors my own. But I don’t want to sit in it. Not now.
Instead, I rise on my tiptoes and brush my lips against his.
“Don’t think then. Just lie back.”
His eyes narrow instantly.
“What?” he rasps.
“You heard me.” My voice is breathless, chasing anything that will pull me away from the same thoughts I know are running through his head.
“Melody.” My name is a warning, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. “What are you doing?”
I drag my palm down the front of his chest, slow and playful.
“Whatever I want,” I murmur, tossing his own words at him.
He stares at me, chest riding and falling under my palm. And then he gives me a wolfish grin, filthy, and infuriatingly hot.
“Is that so?” he says, stepping back. “Let’s see it then.”
He lets me guide him to the bed.
“Lie down.” I push him down.
His body hits the mattress with a thud, muscles shifting, biceps flexing as he leans back against the headboard.
I crawl up onto the bed after him, straddling his waist. His cock is already thick and hard under his shorts.
He’s smiling up at me like he knows exactly what I’m doing. That’s good, because I’m not entirely sure I do.
Still, I reach behind me, grabbing the lacy black panties I just folded to loop them around his wrists.
“Arms up.”
He holds my gaze, not moving.
I raise a brow.
