Page 12 of Off-Limits Bad Boy
Kade's eyes narrow, the silent challenge in them shifting to a warning.
“Emma,” he growls, that warning in his voice echoing in his eyes.
My muscles tense, ready to launch the fruit at his smug face. But before I can throw the citrus, Kade is on me. His movement, a blur of dark leather and anger, brings his body right up to mine.
His hand clamps around my wrists, and my breath catches. The warmth of his fingers wrapping around my wrists as he lifts them over my head, pinning me to the wall sends ripples of shock and excitement through me. The wall, cold and unyielding at my back, and the heat radiating from his body leaves me in confusion. He plucks the lime out of my fingers, his body still pinning me in a way that has my whole body overheating.
“Nice try,” he whispers, his breath fanning my face as his gaze meets mine.
I blink, the reality of our proximity crashing over me like a tsunami. My heart thuds like the endlessness of raindrops on a spring day, echoing through the cavern of my chest and into my ears.
“Kade...” He has no idea what he’s doing, does he? I’m stuck, trapped, arms over my head, body pressed between him and the wall, and every bit of me begging for him to do even more. My body is a traitor.
“Emma Riley,” he whispers, his gaze trailing down to my parted lips.
The world shrinks to this moment.
I shouldn't want him.
But he’s holding me captive by more than just physical strength. His closeness is overwhelming, intoxicating, as if he controls me from the inside out somehow.
“Let me go,” I whisper, feeling my hips tilt toward him. Oh, gosh, I can’t be attracted to him. I can’t let him know I’m so very hot and ready right now.
“Say please.” His tone leaves no room for argument as his thumb brushes against the sensitive skin of my inner wrist.
“Never.” My whisper lodges in my throat as his gaze locks on mine, dark and intense. Years of tension built up like layers of paint in a slumlord’s apartment begins to heat up between us.
“Kade, don't you dare,” I whisper, despite the flush creeping over my cheeks and the tingling excitement flickering across every inch of my skin.
“Don’t I dare what?” he asks, the words not quite making sense to my overwhelmed brain. His voice is a husky whisper, a caress I want to feel against my neck.
I swallow hard. Every instinct screams that I’m in danger, yet that warning is also an undeniable thrill. I don’t want to escape him; I want him to do more.
Our bodies are pressed together, his chest to mine, his thighs against my hips. Heat radiates from him, and I'm suddenly very aware of every point of contact. I'm trapped, but not just by his strength—there's an invisible force that's held me captive since the day we met.
My pulse thunders, loud enough for both of us to hear. He's so close, too close. If I move even an inch, our lips will touch. I don't want that, can't want that.
“Remember, you started this,” I whisper, feeling heat bubbling inside me—a heat from the anger I feel toward him and his behavior. Or so I tell myself.
“Are you scared, Emma?” His whisper tickles my skin, coaxing out the goosebumps as his lips move mere millimeters from mine
“Never.” My defiance colors the single word and his gaze narrows.
He studies me, searching my face as if trying to figure out if I’m lying or not. His thumb brushes over the skin of my wrist, gentle in contrast to the steel of his grip, and I wonder if he’s purposefully trying to drive me crazy.
“I’ll let you go if you say please.” His gaze searches mine and I hear the other half of his statement in my mind. Or I’m going to assume you want me to hold you down like this.
Talk about a difficult choice wrapped up in layers I don’t even know how to begin unwrapping.
“Please.” The word slips out, softer than intended, and showing that when forced to choose between him and freedom, I’ll choose freedom, even at the cost of my pride. I don’t want him thinking I want him. Because I don’t. At least, I’m going to tell myself I don’t until I believe it.
“Good girl.” There's a hint of victory in his voice, and disappointment that I don’t know how to take.
“Kade, I—” The words die on my lips as I catch the shift in his eyes, a deep desire that leaves me breathless.
“Yes?” he asks, his voice a rumble in his chest, vibrating against mine.
But I’m lost, unsure what to do next. Do I pull away, or do I give in to whatever this is between us?