Page 39 of The Risk Taker
“You told me not to fucking speak.”
I narrow my eyes at him, pissed that he’s playing the ‘I didn’t know’ card again. But as much as I’d like to, I can’t lay all the blame on him. He was doing what I wanted. And the sex was…
“You’re so… ugh,” I grunt in frustration, hating that my nipples have hardened like arrow tips and are happily pointing at him like he’s the target.
His hand is still firmly planted against the door above my head, so when he leans closer, his scent surrounds me.
I clamp my mouth shut so I don’t taste it. But all it does is send the seductive scent of warm, masculine skin, laced with a hint of sea salt up my nostrils.
“What is it you’re trying to achieve?”
The deep gruffness of his voice should be a warning to me. I don’t like him. And I certainly don’t want to confide in him. But my body and my tongue are traitors, and the words come without me even thinking about them.
“I don’t want to feel like the girl who gets cheated on, okay? I want to be the girl a guy goes wild for. The girl he’s desperate to get his hands on. The one who consumes his every thought in that moment.” I swallow, taking in a shaky breath. “I want to know I won’t be humiliated after. And most of all, I just want to have sex so good that if I ever think about what my ex did, all I’ll feel is relief that I’m not spending the rest of my life with a man who hated going down on me.”
“He hated...? What the fuck’s wrong with him?” Woody’s scowl is deeper than any of the ones he’s ever sent in my direction before.
I shrug, my cheeks heating from my admission.
He exhales, his eyes still pinned on my face.
“So you want to fuck him out of your system? You want to fuck until you forget?”
“I guess. We all have something we want to forget, don’t we?”
A muscle flexes in his cheek and his bicep bulges like he’s scrunched the hand above my head into a fist.
“You don’t know how true that is,” he mutters.
“I should go.”
I wait for him to move back and release me from where he has me pinned against the door. But he stays rooted to the spot like a huge, brooding statue.
“Were you wet for him?”
“What?” I jerk my head back in shock, ignoring the contact my skull makes against the door.
“You heard.” Woody licks his lips slowly, like he’s considering his words carefully. “Were you wet for him? For this stranger you wanted to fuck until he made you forget?”
“No,” I snap.
My voice comes out breathy, and I hate that it’s joined by a flicker of energy in my core that makes me need to press my thighs together.
Blue eyes burn into mine.
“So, if I put my hand inside your panties right now, I wouldn’t find you’re lying to me?”
My chest jolts with a sharp inhale. “Not exactly a fair scientific test when he’s no longer the one here and you are, is it?”
“You telling me if you’re wet now, it’s because of me?”
It takes everything in me to school my expression and not react. How can he look so calm and ask that?
The piercing blue of his irises holds me captive, and I shake my head, unable to speak. His bicep is straining inside his shirt like he’s struggling to rein something in.
I can’t tell whether it’s anger or desire.
Maybe both.
