Page 8 of Punishing His Runaway Bride
It barely covered; the cut ran long.
"Make do," I said. "No proper wrap here."
He stayed quiet, staring.
It unnerved me.
"I just don't want anyone dying on me," I explained. "Simple as that. I'll call your family soon, or an ambulance—"
"You want to help." He cut me off, lips curling in sarcasm. "But you know what I need most right now?"
He yanked me close, other hand clamping my waist, fingers digging in hard.
"To pin you against the wall and fuck you," he growled in my ear, voice rough, brutally honest. "I'm rock hard. Seeing you makes me want to rip off that ridiculous coat, see what's underneath."
I crashed into his chest, felt his heat, and—
And his hardness pressing my stomach.
My face burned.
"But I won't." His fingers slid up my waist, stopping under my ribs. "Because I won't let you win. Tell me, who sent you?"
"It wasn't—not me!" His touch sent electric jolts through my waist, making me shudder, voice rising. "I don't know what you're talking about. Maria said someone paid a deposit, sent me to 208. I thought you—"
"Thought what?" He interrupted, laughed suddenly. "That I'd pay for a stripper in my room?"
"Stripper" hit like a slap.
"If you look down on the job," I heard myself say, voice ice-cold, "why come here?"
"I come here doesn't mean I want to touch the women here." But his eyes stuck to me, from face to neck to chest, like they'd burn through my clothes.
This fucking bastard.
Rage flared. I should've shoved him off and walked out without looking back.
But my body wouldn't move.
Maybe his voice, his eyes, or the way he fought it—that pained restraint.
Or that pull from the first glance, him sitting apart from the crowd, commanding attention without trying.
And now, here he was, vulnerable, unraveling, needing help.
"Shut up."
Courage surged from nowhere. I reached out and covered his mouth.
His body tensed instantly.
We locked eyes, my hand on his lips, his breath hot against my palm, scorching. My heart pounded like it might burst, from nerves or... something else.
"Every word you say insults me," I said, voice shaking. "But your eyes, your body, say different."
I eased my hand away, fingers trailing his lip, down his jaw, stopping at his open collar.
His skin burned; my fingertips zinged like shocked.
