Page 8 of Shamelessly Loyal
That stilled me, and I caught her hand before she could pull it away. The skin was so damn soft under the roughness of my own. “Don’t try to seduce me,” I informed her. “It won’t work, and the only place I’ll be taking you is home. If you choose to remain, then this—” I nodded to the room around us. “This is where you’re staying. Where I can be sure you’re safe.”
She canted her head, tilting it back to meet my gaze. I practically towered over her, not that she seemed remotely moved by the distinct difference in our heights. If anything, she seemed more challenged. Dammit. She was too wealthy and too privileged to understand the real danger.
No sooner did that thought take purchase than I had to admit, she understood enough to seek help for Ivy. Even if it was an untenable risk for her to come to strangers and be at our mercy.
Releasing her abruptly, I took a step back. “I’ll get your bag. If you want a shirt or something else until I’m back, help yourself to anything in the closet.”
“I can wait. There’s something a little too intimate about me wearing your clothes, Pretty Boy.” The teasing note in her voice was back, the sensuality threading every syllable wrapped around my cock like a fist and squeezed. “You’re going to have to earn that privilege.”
A bolt of purely inappropriate lust went through me as I met her gaze. The corners of her mouth tilted, pleasure? Or amusement?
Maybe both.
“Go on,” she said, pivoting on her bare foot and sauntering—it was absolutely a saunter. The delectable sway of those hips begged me to put my hands on them and bend her over…
What the fuck?
I cut off that train of thought brutally.
“Problems, Pretty Boy?”
“Stop acting like a whore,” I told her, ignoring the cruelty in those words. “Don’t pretend to be something you’re not.”
All at once, she swept the towel away, then put a hand on her hip. “You have a problem with my body? That sounds like ayouthing and not a me thing. I’m fine with who I am. Now, be a good little boy and go get me my bag.”
Without another glance in my direction, she disappeared into the bathroom, taking the acres of smooth, hairless, tanned skin and soft, sweet curves with her.
There wasn’t even a hint of a bikini line and my cock was so fucking hard, all I could think about was shutting that beautiful mouth of hers around it and choking her into silence. If she was swallowing my dick, she wasn’t going to be giving me lip.
That conjured an image of her on her knees with tears in her eyes and my cum splattered all over her as she begged me for more. The need to walk into that bathroom, drag her back out, and put her on her knees was a visceral burn in my blood. A warning.
For me.
I slammed the door on my way out and turned the lock. Then I strode down the hall, passing Vaughn without a word as he raised his brows. The bag in question was sitting in the living room. One of the guys had to have brought it in. I seized it by the straps, then put it back down.
If I went up there again, I was going to make a decision she would regret—a decision I would loathe. I was not a rapist. No matter what it said on my fucking sentencing papers. Just because her body turned me on was not her fault.
It was mine.
Women were to be protected, admired, cherished, and never fucking abused.
In the kitchen, I tugged open the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. No matter what fucking time it was, I knocked the lid off and then drained it all before I grabbed a second.
There had to be some work to do out in the warehouse. I would be close enough to keep an eye on who came and went. No one was getting in my room without the key and they’d have to pry it out of my cold dead fingers before I’d let them get near that girl.
That girl.
Lainey Benedict.
Even her name was a sensual curse in my mind and I could practically feel the dare in her eyes. Fuck I wanted those eyes on me as my cock pulsed between her lips. I took another long slug of cold beer as I stomped out into the warehouse. Rats scattered at my arrival. Little shits had been hanging out, sitting around and a couple even smoked.
The truck was only half unloaded.
Good. I could take this frustration out on them.
“What the fuck do you think we pay you to do?” I demanded, and the guy closest to me paled.
I shouldn’t have enjoyed it.