Page 32 of The Toy Maker

My blood turned to fire. “You left me here for anhour?” The realization ignited a fury so blistering I nearly lunged at him—if not for the damn restraints still holding me back.

“Well, an hour and a half actually.” He handed me a cup of coffee and tapped his to mine. “The line was really long.”

Homicidal thoughts took over my brain as I glared at the smug bastard in front of me. My body was still trembling, my thighs sticky with the evidence of his so-calledexperiment, and yet he stood there, completely unbothered, sipping his coffee like this was just another casual morning.

“What if something serious happened?” I demanded.

Jason chuckled and took a sip of his drink. “Death by too many orgasms?”

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I stared him down, refusing to let him turn this into some kind of joke.

Finally, he sighed.

“I was watching the entire time,” he assured me.

The confession sent nauseating rage and embarrassment dangerously twisting in my gut. I had been falling apart, thinking I was alone, drowning in wave after wave of forced pleasure, and the entire time, he had been watching.

He had no right to leave.

And he sure as hell had no right towatch.

“I couldn’t have taken the toy home to try?” I bit out. At least then I’d have some privacy.

Jason tilted his head, utterly unfazed. “Not the same effect.” The damn twinkle in his eyes was the final straw. He really was enjoying pissing me off.

I shoved the coffee into his other hand with enough force to slosh the liquid over his fingers, then climbed off the bed, my legs weak beneath me. I snatched up my robe, yanking it around my shoulders as my heart pounded with adrenaline. Then I stormed out of the room with Jason on my heels.

I fumbled with the robe tie while mumbling obscenities to my unwanted audience. I was at the door before Jason jumped into motion.

His palm collided with the door, preventing me from leaving.

I turned to him, my gaze piercing daggers into his face. “Move.”

His eyes tried to suck the anger from my body and leave me a withering mess again. “I will.”

I tried to maneuver past him, but he didn’t drop his arm until I stopped fuming. “What’s so important that you won’t just let me go?” I snapped.

He towered over me with a smirk tugging at his lips, one that made my breath catch against my will. He had mecornered—not just physically, but in a way that felt far more dangerous. “I heard you,” he said simply.

I postponed the kick to the crotch I was planning and met his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

Jason didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t let me escape. “You moaned my name.”

A chill licked up my spine.

I stiffened, my brain scrambling for some way, any way, to deny it. “Of course I was. I wanted you to let me out.” My voice was steady, but inside, I felt the walls closing in.

Jason tilted his head, studying me like he could see right through my flimsy excuse. “I think you just wanted me to get you off.”

The air between us thickened.

He leaned against the door, arms crossed, watching me with infuriating patience. His dark hair fell over his eyes, the dim light casting sharp shadows over his face. He knew he was right. That was the worst part.

“You wish.” The weakness in my voice didn’t help with credibility.

“Then go.” He stepped aside, giving me a clear path to the door.

I should have bolted. Should have shoved past him, gotten the hell out of there without another glance.