Page 86 of Brutal Devil

His chest is a masterpiece.

I want to lick every drop of water from his skin.

“Is that so?” he asks, his tone making it clear he doesn’t believe me.

Not for a second.

Also, he’s not wrong. I’m sure I’m ruining my panties right now, and it’s as frustrating as it is annoying. I hate the effect this man has on me. Even when I’m furious with him, and despite knowing he’s a dangerous criminal, I want him so much I can barely breathe.

I lick my lips and cross my arms over my chest so he can’t see how hard my nipples are. “Yeah. That’s so.”

“Liar,” he growls.

Taunting me.

Tempting me.

I shrug like I’m completely unaffected. “Think whatever you like.”

“If you’re so immune to me, then why don’t you get in?”

His challenge sends a flood of heat through me. It’s as if my skin is suddenly too tight for my body. My heart thuds hard in my chest.

“I don’t have a suit,” I tell him.

He just grins, the devil. “You don’t need one.”

Yes, I do. Oh yes, I absolutely do when this infuriating, too-handsome-for-his-own-good gangster is naked and dripping and looking at me like he didn’t get dessert at dinner, but that’s okay because he’s decided he’ll have me instead.

“I’m good,” I say.

But I’m anything but.

He chuckles, the sound making my clit throb. “You don’t trust yourself, do you?”

What woman in her right mind would?

He swims toward me slowly, a predator intent upon his prey.

“Of course I do,” I insist stupidly.

What I should be doing is going back to my room and hauling that big-ass nightstand back in front of the door. Instead, I’m standing here like a lamb for the slaughter. Too lust-drunk to move.

Priest stops halfway across the pool and stands, watching me. Waiting.

“Fine,” I bite out, too proud not to take the bait.

Too stupid, maybe.

I grab my tee and whip it over my head. I’m not wearing a bra, and the warm, damp air curls around my bare skin. Nothing I can do to hide my nipples from him now. Too bad. If he thinksI’m going to melt into his arms and be seduced by him again, he’s wrong.

I’ll show his annoying ass.

Hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my pj shorts, I haul them down, taking my thong with them. Then I pull the elastic hair tie from my bun and let my wet hair fall down my back.

Meeting his gaze defiantly, I jump in with as much grace as I can manage. I hope I splash the fuck out of him.

But when I pop to the surface, I’m dismayed to discover that not only did I fail to splash him, he’s moved closer. Towering over me, a wall of dripping, muscled alpha male deliciousness.