Beneath These Scars Page 11

A rush of power laced my pumping blood. She was wild—and unpredictable if my dick in her hand was any indication. But I would bend her to my will. And we’d both fucking love it.

Her grip on my cock tightened again.

“You getting a good feel for it, Yve? Getting wet thinking about how I’d stretch your tight little cunt and fill you up?”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “You have no shame, do you?”

I shook my head slowly. She might have had me nearly by the balls, but I was still the only predator in this room.

“None at all. In fact, I’d give a whole hell of a lot to watch you sink to your knees right now so I could fuck that sassy mouth of yours.”

She swallowed, and once again, moved faster than I anticipated. Before I knew it, she released her grip as her other palm cracked against my cheek.

I caught her wrist midair as she pulled it back for another run at me. “You get one. That’s it.”

“Let. Go. Of. Me.” Yve spat the words from between gritted teeth.

“For now.” I released her wrist and she spun, stalking stiffly to the towels.

My dick, missing her grip already, throbbed at the sight of her perfectly heart-shaped ass, and I bit back a groan. Mmm. That ass.

She wrapped a towel around her, covering all that smooth, sleek skin—skin that I could spend hours tasting—and turned as she jammed a corner of the towel between her breasts.

Her eyes flashed with anger. “You’re an asshole.”

“That’s not news,” I replied. “What is news, however, is that you’ve got the most perfect tits and ass I’ve ever seen.”

The dusky hue of her nipples once again stained her sharp cheekbones. “An asshole and a pig.”

“And you’ve got a lot of explaining to do. Dry off, and I’ll meet you in the conservatory. I have a feeling this is going to require Scotch.” I stepped toward the door of the pool room, and paused. “In case you haven’t familiarized yourself with the house beyond the pool, the conservatory is in the east wing. Next door after you pass the library.”

As I pushed open the door, I was pretty certain I heard her whisper, “What the fuck is a conservatory, and why the hell does he need one?”

A smile curled along my lips at that little gem.

“HOLY SHIT,” I MUTTERED AS I grabbed another towel and dried my hair. “Lucas Goddamn Titan. No fucking way.”

And what the hell did I just do? I’d grabbed the man’s dick.

Granted, he’d forced me to. Well, he hadn’t exactly taken my hand and wrapped it around the biggest cock I’d ever encountered—based on the sheer feel of it—but he’d taunted me. Challenged me.

I wasn’t the kind of woman who would back down from a challenge anymore. And certainly not from a rich asshole like Titan. No, men like him understood one thing and one thing only—power and sheer defiance of it.

I still couldn’t believe I hadn’t put it together. How could Titan be Levi’s brother? They didn’t share a last name—because as Titan had said, Levi didn’t have one. I’d thought he was crazy when he’d handed me his ID for his employment paperwork, but I didn’t ask questions because . . . well, this was New Orleans, and he wouldn’t be my first employee to be in a unique situation. Now that I was looking for it, I could see the resemblance between them. Even though Levi didn’t have the height or the solid build quite yet, he had the same black hair, albeit shaggy, and green eyes.

I tried to wrap my mind around this entire thing while I squeezed the water out of my hair. I really needed a shower first, but I wasn’t about to risk taking that kind of time. The master of the house might notice and find me naked and wet. Again.

Good Lord. That man . . .

I should have wanted to claw his hand off when he touched me, but . . . I hadn’t. Clearly, I was traumatized from earlier or something, because my reaction defied explanation. When his dark green eyes had speared me, I’d almost arched into his touch like a cat in heat.

It was a mistake. A crazy reaction. I didn’t want him.

He was rich. Arrogant. Entitled. Most likely to try to crush me into a pliable shadow of myself. Screw that. But in a corner of my mind, I knew the truth. I wanted to screw him.

No, Yve. You know better.

Self-loathing was a horrible thing, so I shoved the thoughts aside. I didn’t want him. Wouldn’t want him. I hated him and everything he stood for. I’d stare him down again, and this time, I would do it with my pride intact.

I spotted several fluffy white hotel robes hanging from hooks on the wall, which would have been really nice to notice before. Damn it. I grabbed one and slipped it on before sliding into my flip-flops and heading for the door. I was leaving what had happened a few minutes ago in that room and I would never think about it again. I’d also strike the dick-grabbing move from my list of knee-jerk reactions to being challenged.

As I reached for the door handle, I looked down at the palm of my hand like it was going to explain to me why it jumped out and grabbed Lucas Titan’s junk.

Shake. It. Off. Yve. Squaring my shoulders, I headed in the direction of the library. At least I knew where it was. I’d drooled over it almost immediately upon entering the house. It was something out of Beauty and the Beast, and now that I knew who owned the house, that comparison seemed a lot more fitting.

I paused near the stairs. Meeting Lucas Titan in a bathrobe was not a good idea. I hated that I’d be at a disadvantage. This kind of conversation would be easier to have in my sassiest red dress and tallest fuck-me heels—an outfit that packed a double shot of confidence to face down his arrogant self.

Not like when I ran from him at the corner instead of letting him see me to my house.

But even after I’d done that, he’d still arranged for my car to be repaired.

Titan was a damn puzzle. And I didn’t have time to solve the path through his twisty brain these days.

Instead, I squared my shoulders and followed a hallway in the direction I assumed was east. Soon I passed the library and another set of glass doors that led into what would definitely be another of my favorite rooms of the house. With all glass walls and a vaulted glass roof, it held a couple of comfortable-looking sofas and a long, narrow table with several fancy bottles filled with amber liquid. As I approached, Titan stood pouring what I assumed was some kind of expensive booze into two glasses.

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