Page 9

CHARLOTTE

H oly hell.

Who is this man?

I squeeze my fingers tighter around his neck, and that just makes him grin.

He’s dangerous. Everything about him—the tattoos that span from his jaw, covering his entire body, even his fingers that are perfectly placed around my throat.

Those eyes are captivating, I could get lost in them. I’ve never seen a light blue so piercing.

And that grin. That smug, shit-eating grin I don’t want to wipe off his face.

“You want me,” he says confidently.

I do. But I’m not admitting that.

“Actually, I really want a chocolate milkshake.”

He pushes my legs open with his thick thigh and presses his body against mine.

He’s making pushing him away extremely difficult. So instead, I dig my nails into his neck as I squeeze.

“Maybe I want to lick chocolate milkshake out of your pussy and spit it in your mouth. There, we both win that way.”

My body is becoming an inferno. His lips hover over mine, and I’m so close to saying fuck it.

The air crackles with anticipation as our lips near, only to have him pull away, his fingers ghosting along my cheek, leaving a trail of warmth.

“Think about it. I’m room five-oh-two. Penthouse. The code on the elevator is six-six-six. I’ve got an extremely bad sweet tooth and a dick that now requires CPR. It’s only fair that the woman who injured it, heals it.”

I don’t know what to say.

I can’t take my eyes off the enormous bulge in his shorts.

This cannot be happening.

“I’ll see you around, heartbreaker.”

“My name is Brittany.” I smirk.

A grin spreads across his face as he shakes his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Lies. I’m Jimmy.”

I hold on to the wall behind me as he turns and bashes open the door.

When I hear the splash of water, I let out a breath.

I have a job to do. I look up at the clock on the wall, watching it tick away in silence.

All I know is I need to go cool down and clear my head.