Hot-Bites, Volume Two by Jenika Snow

5

Macy

Iwatch as the bathroom door shuts, hear the shower turn on, and all I want to do is scream.

This man infuriates me, makes me want to rip out my hair for how frustrating he is.

I look at the hotel room door, contemplating leaving. And although I could easily ditch him, take the fancy, expensive shit he bought and sling it on the street, instead I sit my ass down on the bed. He knows my name, and a man like him surely has resources out his ass.

There’s no way he won’t be able to find me. There’s no way he won’t make good on his promise that if I don’t play by his rules, do what he says, he’ll have the cops hauling my ass away for theft.

I clench my jaw as I stare at the bathroom door, picturing him in the shower, the water running over his big, hard body. The truth is, he fucking annoys me, but he also turns me on. I’m wet between my thighs, and my nipples are hard enough they’re pressing against my shirt.

His arrogance, the way he grins at me, knowing full well he gets under my skin, pisses me off even more. He knows I want him, knows he can have me if he just pushes a little harder.

I look around at the hotel room, the swankiest place I’ve ever been. I feel out of place, and my mind instantly goes to what I can sell. God, he and I are from two very different worlds.

There are gold-leaf accents, marble countertops, and even a small crystal chandelier hanging above the bed. There’s a whole other room attached to where I’m currently at, a sitting area with two couches, a massive flat-screen TV hanging on the wall, and a coffee table between them.

It looks like a small apartment.

I don’t even want to think about how much this place costs a night. And although I lied and told him stealing his stuff and selling it wouldn’t even pay for my rent, I know it would and more.

On the street, this stuff can go for pretty penny, but I wasn’t lying when I said cash is easier. It’s less of a “paper trail.”

I lie back on the bed and throw my hands over my head, closing my eyes and just lying there. I could get used to this type of life, where I don’t have to worry about how much money I need to pay my bills or to eat, where I don’t have to worry about if my fingers are going to be sticky enough that day and pay off for all the work I’m doing, all the people I’m ripping off.

I don’t know how long I lie there. I hear the shower turn off, but refuse to move. I don’t care what he says, what he thinks when he comes out and sees me sprawled in the middle of the bed like I own the place.

If Braden wants to keep me here for the next two days, that’s exactly what I’m going to do… make myself at home.

And we need to get some things straight. I have some rules of my own. If he thinks he can push me around, control what I do until after the dinner, he’s got another think coming.

He’ll find out soon enough that I’m not the type of woman to bend easily, no matter how attractive a man is. And a part of me thinks that’s what he’s used to, women who surrender to him, submit to whatever he wants.

I’m the complete opposite, and he’ll figure that out, maybe even regret taking me to this dinner.

I hear the bathroom door open and I push myself up, keeping my hands behind me and bracing my upper body. Steam billows out from the bathroom as he steps out, a white, plush towel wrapped around his waist, his chest on display, I feel myself suck in a breath of air.

Braden’s chest is hard and muscular with a rippling six-pack, defined pectoral muscles, and biceps that would have me weak in the knees if I wasn’t already sitting down.

He saunters out and heads toward the bag he brought with him. All I can do is sit here and stare at him.

I lick my lips, my throat feeling dry and tight. “We… we have some things to discuss if I’m gonna be here for the next two days.” I try to sound strong, but my voice comes out soft, almost weak. I swallow, trying not to gawk at his body, but it’s nearly impossible.

He looks over his shoulder at me with an eyebrow raised. “Then talk,” he says nonchalantly. He faces me, and it takes all my will power to stare at his face.

I open my mouth, not sure exactly where to start, or what to say, but before I can say anything, he reaches down and drops his towel. On instinct, I lower my gaze. A small gasp escapes me as I stare at the massive dick hanging between his legs. He’s long and thick, not even aroused, but he’s big enough that I can only imagine how much larger he gets when he’s sporting an erection.

I curl my hands into the comforter beneath me and slowly lift my gaze up, following the trail of dark hair that stops right below his navel, continuing up until I look into his eyes.

The gorgeous bastard is smirking.

“You wanted to talk?”