Page 3 of Dark Wishes (Dark Contract #2)

Jamison

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It’s not too late to pour the bleach into my eyes.

Or maybe it is. Because even if I destroyed my eyesight, my treacherous brain would conjure up this picture of Selena for years to come.

She’s bent over my kitchen sink, the tan skirt pulling tight across her ass.

The hem brushes the naked skin behind her knees, and when she shifts nervously, it rises like the sea, taunting me with secret treasures.

She was getting excited when I washed her hair, rubbing her thighs together like it could relieve the ache. How wet is she? Finding out would be easy. I could do it right now.

This is a bad idea.

The entire situation is. Helping bleach her hair?

What the hell was I thinking? My fingers in her silky tresses, feeling her pulse flutter under my thumb.

.. I didn’t need to do any of that. Yes, bleach spots on my floor would be suspicious if the police investigate my house, but what I want to do to this woman is the real concern.

At this rate, I won’t have to worry about hypothetical problems.

I’m about to create a real one.

"Jamison?”

God, her voice makes my cock flex. Clutching the white towel in my fist I crush it until my fingertips go numb. She’s shifting on her heels—getting anxious. She has no clue I’m right behind her.

I could slip my hand lightly up her inner thigh if I want to.

I do want to.

A vicious tremble shakes me to my core. Rolling my shoulders, I stare at the ceiling, inhaling silently. Calm yourself. Remember the risks.

Remember what you still don’t know.

Selena’s sigh expands through the sink, echoing from there to my ears to my chest. I bite down, molars creaking, to keep myself from pouncing on her.

But I can’t resist the urge to stalk forward until I’m looming over her.

My hand lowers, hovering in the air above her ass.

The veins on the back of my hand wind like snakes.

“You’re right behind me, aren’t you?” she asks.

I stop dead in my tracks. I’m close enough to see her shoulder blades rising and falling with every one of her breaths. “How did you know?”

“Just a guess.”

“Here,” I say, dropping the towel on her head.

Selena stands up with the towel wrapped around her hair. She holds it with one hand to keep it in place, glaring at me as she leans on the counter. “You don’t have to be this way.”

“What way?” I ask.

“This.” She waves her free hand at me in short, choppy motions. “First you were acting helpful... almost kind. Then you go and try to terrify me. Quit being erratic, it’s super annoying.”

My eyes run over the front of her shirt.

Water from the sink has stained the red material darker, making it stick to her collar bone and her breasts.

The hint of her hard nipples ignites my blood.

“Which side of me do you prefer?” My tone is soft.

.. silky... thick with a desire I desperately want to eradicate.

Her body presses against the counter, away from me. “Which do I prefer?”

“The helpful, or the terrifying,” I say patiently.

“Neither.” She answers too quickly. Her posture is defensive, especially when she releases the towel, arms crossing over her chest. She's trying to shelter herself from me. It’s too late—I can read her.

She wants me. Against all fucking logic she wants me.

This isn’t the information I was seeking...

But it’s worth investigating.