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“Yes.”
“Your rules are fucked up, you know that?”
I meet his gaze. “Take it or leave it.”
His eyes search mine, looking for something I’m terrified he’ll find. “What if I want more?”
“Then you’re in the wrong bathroom with the wrong girl.”
Brandon stands up, the movement so sudden it makes me flinch.
“What are you doing?” I ask, hating how uncertain my voice sounds.
“Get on there.” He points to the counter. “Spread your legs.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” His voice is low, dangerous. “On the counter. Now.”
I blink up at him. This isn’t the playful, teasing Brandon I’m used to. This is… something else entirely. “What happened to the bed and silk sheets?”
“Now, Naomi.”
Heat rushes to my core, because this Brandon, this take-no-prisoners version, is hot as fuck.
I push myself up on shaky legs. “And if I don’t?”
“Then I walk out that door, and we never speak of this again. Your choice.”
TWELVE
NAOMI
My body moves before my brain can catch up, and I hoist myself onto the cold marble. No chance we’re stopping this.
I need it.
“Good girl.” His eyes darken. “And now… Spread. Your. Legs.”
“You always this bossy in bed?”
“This isn’t a bed.” His hands grab my knees, forcing them apart, and with it, my dress bunches up.
“So literal,” I murmur, but there’s no bite in it. I’m too busy trying to steady my breathing.
“You talk too much.” His fingers trail up my thighs.
I bite back a whimper, but it’s no use.
“That’s better,” he says.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
I grip the edge of the counter. “Do you ever shut up?”
“You could make me.” He surges forward, his lips stopping inches from mine, taunting. Daring. “By using that pretty mouth of yours.”