Asa (Marked Men #6)

I opened my mouth to argue. It wasn’t a king-sized bed but it was definitely big enough for both of us to share. Yet there was a glow in his gold eyes, a warning light that had me clicking my teeth together in frustrated silence. I always felt like he was trying to say something to me without words, like he had an unspoken message for me I was just too thick to pick up on. Something was working behind those jungle-cat eyes and there was a coiled tension in him that I could feel vibrating and waiting to spring loose. I shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the back of one of the chairs that sat at the table. I took the sheets and blanket he shoved at me before he turned and headed to what I assumed was the bathroom.

 

I sank to the edge of the bed and stared blankly at the cracked-open door. I set the bundle in my arms down next to me and tried to get my head around what was happening. This was absolutely not what I had pictured coming home with the sexy southerner to be like. I was sure once it was just the two of us, alone, the undeniable heat and chemistry that popped and sizzled between us would reach a bursting point. Then I would finally get all that I knew Asa had to offer directed at me. I wanted that smooth charm, that effortless sexiness, and all the turbulent desire I knew was lurking just below the surface of his good-ol’-boy fa?ade. I sighed and looked at his abandoned cell phone, wondering if I really should call someone to rescue me. It was starting to seem like Asa’s desire to save me from what he clearly thought was going to be a mistake was far stronger than my desire to make that mistake.

 

I got up and went to crack open the door to the bathroom enough that I could tell him I was going to call a cab and head home. I wasn’t going to kick him out of his bed when he obviously didn’t want me here. I already had enough things in my life making me feel bad about myself; I didn’t need to chase after more rejection from Asa.

 

“Hey, I’m just gonna …” I trailed off as my tongue suddenly forgot how to work and all thought fled.

 

Of course there wouldn’t be a full-sized bath and shower in this tiny apartment. Just a shower stall enclosed in barely frosted glass that hid nothing. The steam from the shower wasn’t enough to obscure the sight before me, and my hand pushed the door open the rest of the way like it was operating independently from the rest of me.

 

He had one arm bent above his head with his forehead resting on it as the water cascaded down around him. He turned to look at me as the door opened. Even with the shower steam and the hazy glass between us, I could see his brilliant gaze lock on mine as his other arm moved to work his fist up and down an impressive erection that was obviously meant for me.

 

I knew I should shut the door and turn away. It was his space, his private moment, but I couldn’t do it and I was equal parts turned on and furious watching him as he worked himself over all while he watched me unblinkingly. He was beautiful; it was beautiful. Yet I was so mad that after all the ways in which I had made it clear to him that he could have me, he would rather self-gratify than take me to bed, that I was having a hard time appreciating all that beauty even if I was transfixed by the sight. He was wasting something that was rightfully mine and I wanted to scream at him to stop, to ask me to join him under the water and put that throbbing evidence of his arousal to better use, but I was stunned into silence, rooted to the spot by twin spikes of passion and fury.

 

He was all long, lean lines and taut golden skin. His blond hair was slick, shades darker from the water, and his eyes shone out of his face like something was lighting them up from deep within him. The muscles in his arm and across his broad shoulders flexed and danced as his hand moved over the thick, impatient-looking arousal that hung prominently between his legs. His defined abs contracted then released as he let out a long groan after a few more purposeful strokes brought him to completion. His entire body jerked just a little and I could swear he mouthed my name as he came, but that might have been wishful thinking on my part. His fist relaxed and he blinked slowly at me while reaching out with a hand to push open the shower door. We stared at each other for a long silent moment and I put a hand up to my throat because I felt like everything I wanted to say to him was stuck there.

 

“You suck and I kind of hate you a lot right now.” My words were raspy and rough as I turned on my heel and stormed out of the bathroom, making sure to slam the door behind me.

 

I wanted to choke him and fuck him, not sure which desire was stronger. I stalked to the table and snatched up the phone with every intention of getting out of this apartment. Away from him. It was an emotional overload that I didn’t want to make me do something I would end up regretting later when I was thinking more clearly. The fact of the matter was I knew he had set me up, had wanted me to walk in on him and see what he was doing. The door was left open for a reason; he had left me to stew as soon as we walked in the front door on purpose. He was a calculating son of a bitch and I was really starting to see who he was under all the gloss and charm he hid behind most of the time.

 

Asa wanted me to know that even though he wanted me, he wasn’t ever going to go there even when it was just us, alone in his apartment. His point had been made in a startlingly clear and vivid way, and now I had to get away even if I would never, ever forget the images he had imprinted on my mind forever.

 

Of course the phone had a password on it, which just amped up my frustration even further. I stared at it blankly, trying to figure out my next move, when his fingers wrapped around my wrist and he pulled the useless device out of my hand. He spun me around and absently tossed the phone back onto the table. He was glaring down at me, which maybe would have been intimidating—after all, I didn’t really know Asa that well—but he hadn’t bothered to put anything on, not even a towel. He was standing way too close and was way too naked for me to feel anything other than the damn lust he seemed to own as it rushed back to the surface.