Page 40 of Secret Obsession
“And yet, there you sit,” he growls.
Steele pauses the game and faces us just as Miles rounds the couch. He snatches the controller from Knox and throws it across the room. It crashes against the far wall, but Knox just smirks up at him and settles his hands on my thighs.
It’s a little too close for comfort, and I wince.
Just a little.
Miles sees it, though, and his fury escalates. He grabs my arm and yanks me up, spinning me around and pushing me face-first into the wall next to the television. He leans into me, guiding my hands up until my palms are pressed to the paint on either side of my head.
“Don’t move a fucking muscle.”
Or what?I almost ask.
But then the weight of him, his body heat, disappears.
There’s a scuffle behind me. The thuds of what I can only imagine is fists hitting flesh. Something crashes, and I flinch when something slams into the wall beside me.
I don’t want to know.
I press my forehead to the wall and close my eyes.
What’s miraculous is the fact that I’m listening to Miles’ order. The snakes in my belly have quit moving, even with the fight. Everything just slips away, and I focus on keeping my muscles still.
“Time to go.” His words aren’t for me, though.
The silence in the room grows louder. All I can concentrate on is my ragged breathing. And then a finger runs down the back of my neck, catching the edge of the bandage, and goosebumps break out in its wake.
“You’re a bad girl,” Miles says, his fingers trailing lower. Down the small of my back, then farther down. Until his palm is cupping my ass.
I shudder.
He removes his hand, and I crack my eyes open.
Smack.
His palm strikes my ass, and I jump. My forehead bumps the wall harder, and my fingernails dig into it.
“Fuck,” I groan. “What the fuck was that for?”
“Unbutton your jeans.”
I glance over my shoulder at him. He’s got a bloody nose, for fuck’s sake.
“Don’t make me repeat it,” he threatens.
I shake my head and fumble for the button.
“Zipper,” he says next.
I slide the zipper down, still facing the wall.
“Hands back on the wall.”
He hooks his fingers in the waistband and drags my jeans down. My thong gives him a perfect view of my ass. And then he grips my hips and pulls me out. I end up leaning my upper body over, keeping my arms stretched in front of me. There’s a wicked thrill coursing through me, but confusion, too.
He caresses my bare cheek, rubbing it with light circles. I shift my weight, but then his palm disappears.
I tell myself not to flinch, but I do anyway. This strike is harder. Pain echoes through my ass and straight to my core.
