Two Can Play (Celeste and Dominic) novel Chapter 403

I could not stop thinking about the big-titted redhead in the next room.

It made no sense. I did not like people in my bed when I slept. I had rules about these things, and the rules had kept me alive and sane for a long time. And I had already taken my daily dose from Scarlett, spent myself in her body and walked away clean. So what the hell was the problem?

In the end I decided to try something different. If I could not get her out of my head, maybe having her lie next to me would put the matter to rest. Familiarity. Exposure. That was all it was.

I went back to the room and ignored the way Jasmine's face lit up when she saw me, the way she sat up and let the thin fabric of her nightgown fall open. I took Scarlett by the wrist, and pulled her out of the room. She came without resistance, and I did not let go until I had her in my room, where I released her with a nudge toward the bed.

She sat on the edge and stared at me, and I stared back, and for a long moment neither of us moved. The dim light caught the spill of her hair, the line of her throat, the thin strap of her pajamas slipping off her shoulder, and I had to force my eyes up to her face.

What the hell was happening to me? I had spent my whole life unbothered by women, using them the way they used me, trading pleasure like currency and walking away clean. And now this one had me fetching her out of bed in the middle of the night because I could not sleep without the sound of her breathing in my room. Was she playing some kind of game with me? A long game, designed to put me under her spell, to make me addicted to her so she could own me the way greedy people wanted to own everything else in their path?

No. Not a chance. I was Sparrow. I lived for the pain and the pleasure of this life, and everything else was ephemeral, women most of all. I had never let desire bind me to a woman, and I was not about to start tonight.

Perhaps something got lost in translation, because she let out a resigned sigh, slid off the bed, and went to her knees before me, her hands reaching for the waistband of my pajamas.

I stepped back. "Get up."

She frowned, confusion flickering across her face.

"Don't try anything stupid," I said turning to stare at her back. "Like attacking me while I'm sleeping. The consequences will be dire. First you'll watch your precious niece die a gruesome death before your eyes, and then your friends will follow, and you'll be last. All the men in this building will run a train on you before they slice you up piece by piece."

The threat hung in the air, heavy as smoke. I meant every word of it. It really would be a shame if she did something foolish, and I hoped she understood that. She was young, and despite everything, I did not want to see her dead.

"Don't worry, Sparrow." Her voice came soft and unhurried from the other side of the bed. "I'm not stupid enough to sign my own death warrant."

I let out a breath and turned my back to her again, but sleep still would not come. The minutes crawled past, and I found myself turning again, drawn against my will.

Her back was something else. The curve of her waist, impossibly narrow. The flare of her hips, full and round. The long line of her spine disappearing into the spill of her hair. She was beautiful the way a weapon was beautiful, all deadly purpose and perfect lines, and I cursed under my breath.