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I wring more water from my hair.
Weston finally strides toward me. When he’s close enough, he leans in and whispers in my ear, “You have no idea who your opponent is.”
Carlee pulls him onto the dance floor, and even though no one else is dancing, I know she’s trying to divert attention from the drama brewing. I feel awful, especially since this is the first party they’ve thrown as a married couple.
“What did Weston say?” Louis asks.
I quietly repeat my brother’s words as Asher redresses.
“Curious. I wonder what was said.” His brow arches, and he glances past me.
Moments later, the patio door swings open and snaps shut. I turn and catch Banks’s honey-brown eyes fixed on me. I’ve never seen that look on him before. His jaw is clenched, and he seems almost feral.
He steps closer to me, his body pressing against mine, and I can feel every fucking inch of him through the thin fabric of my damp dress. His strong fingers weave through my hair, as if he’srehearsed this moment a million times. He tilts my head toward him so gently that it feels choreographed. With his other hand, he grips my waist, his fingers digging into my flesh, like he owns me—like he’s fucking claiming me in front of everyone. I should push him away, but instead, I arch into him, feeling the heat pooling between my legs.
His lips crash into mine, and, holy fuck, it’s like an explosion. His tongue invades my mouth, hot and demanding, and I moan against him, my hands tangling in his hair. He tastes like revenge and sin, and I’m drowning in it, in him. His teeth graze my bottom lip, biting down just hard enough to make me whimper. Right now, it’s just us, and everything else fades away.
He massages my scalp, a deep groan rumbling in his throat. I feel like I’m falling apart, crumbling to ash. He mentioned the Asher Effect before, and right now I’m spiraling, lost in him.
“Fuck.” His voice is low and rough, sending shivers down my spine.
His lips find mine again, and this time, it’s hotter, dirtier. His tongue twists with mine, and I’m trembling with desire.
When he finally pulls away, we’re both gasping for air. Our gazes lock, and the room fades back into view. I snap back to reality and realize that everyone is staring at us.
My hair is still caught in his hand as he leans in closer, pulling my ear to his mouth.
“Tell me you hate me,” he murmurs.
“Fuck you,” I whisper, covering my lips with my hand, fully aware that they’re swollen.
That line should’veneverbeen crossed.
Banks laughs and walks away, knowing he’s rewritten the narrative I wanted for Louis and me.
Who will believe we’re together now after that kiss?
As I turn, I meet Louis’s gaze—his mouth slightly parted, eyes wide. It’s the same stunned expression everyone else is wearing.
This is a living nightmare.
I quickly spot Harper.
She mouths,What the fuck?
I shake my head and rush out of the room. The elevator doors begin to close, and I slide inside with Banks.
I press the button to close the doors, then turn to him. If looks could kill, he’d be on the floor right now. He shrugs and tucks his hands into his pockets, acting like he couldn’t care less.
“What is wrong with you?” I ask, frustration boiling over, aware that my panties are drenched.
Banks presses the button to stop the elevator. It jolts to a halt.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he retorts, his eyes sliding from my mouth down my body, which is currently on fire.
“You. You’re what’s wrong with me. Asshole!” I growl.
“Oh.” He laughs sarcastically. “Because you’re so damn innocent.”