Beneath These Scars (Beneath #4)(21)

“Never,” she whispered again.

I leaned down, bringing my face close to hers. “Lie to me all you want. I felt how hard you came in the kitchen and how fast I brought you to the edge in the bedroom. You can’t make me believe you aren’t dying to let go like that again.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, including what I want.”

“Lying to yourself is pointless, Yve.”

I squeezed her hip before sliding my hand down her thigh until I hit bare skin. She didn’t stop me—didn’t do anything but pin me with that challenging stare—as I slipped underneath her skirt and retraced my path until I hit . . . more bare skin.

I bit back a groan as I cupped her naked ass. “You’re so goddamn sexy, and if I were inclined to let another man see you, I’d take you right here up against this fence.”

Yve’s nostrils flared, and her throat bobbed as she swallowed. She said nothing, but her actions spoke louder. She pressed her ass into my hand.

I stared into her tawny eyes as I released my grip and skimmed my palm around to her front and covered her *. “You’re so f*cking wet for me. Again.”

“I can’t help it that my body wants you. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna give in.”

I smiled, feeling like a class-A predator. “You won’t be able to resist, so why fight it?”

“Because you’re a prick.”

I laughed. “I’ve never been so entertained to be insulted by someone.” I shifted my fingers so one covered her clit and pressed. When Yve sucked in a harsh breath, I slid one finger inside her. “And I still want to make you come, even after that. Are you going to let me? Or are you going to keep lying to us both?”

Yve’s hands shot out and shoved hard against my shoulders. I released my hold on her instantly and stepped away, hands raised.

“Fine. Fight it. But you know where I’ll be when you decide you want more.”

“I won’t.”

“That’s one of us then.” I brought my hand to my face and sucked my fingers into my mouth. Sweet, tangy Yve. Fucking perfection. “And for the record, you taste amazing.”

Her mouth dropped open, and I turned toward the house. “If you want breakfast before I give you a ride to get your car, you can come back inside.”

“Wait, my car’s done?”

I knew that little nugget of information would get her attention. “It is. I’ll take you to get it after breakfast.”

“Just like that. You expect me to sit down and eat with you just like that? After you . . . you . . .”

I glanced behind me as I pulled the front door open, pleased to see that Yve was right on my heels. “After I copped a feel, figured out you weren’t wearing panties, fingered you, and tasted your *? Yes.”

Yve slowed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re a freak show. That’s all I’ve got.”

“I’m not the one going commando under a skirt.”

“Shut up. I didn’t have any clean underwear.”

“I’m not complaining. Now, I believe you know your way to the kitchen.”

Yve strutted ahead of me, her head held high while I hung back, watching her go.

She’d be back for more. I was confident of that.





WHEN I WALKED BACK INTO the kitchen, I didn’t expect to see a tall, thin man with a shiny bald head standing in front of the stove. He turned when I walked through the door, a big smile on his face.

“And here’s the mysterious lady who had Lucas digging through my kitchen last night.” He stepped away from the stove to hold out a hand. “I’m Jerome. I’m the master of all you survey, including Mr. Titan.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Does he know that?”

I felt Titan’s presence behind me without him touching me. And surprisingly—even after everything that had just happened—it didn’t make me jumpy.

“He knows,” Titan said. “He just lets Jerome continue his delusions. Or maybe I’m the one who’s delusional,” he added, his lips altogether too close to my ear for comfort. I had a feeling the man saw me as a challenge, and I needed to put that out of his head.

Jerome’s faded blue eyes lit with a spark. “As they say, we’re all mad here.”

“Then I guess I fit in better than I thought.” Because I’ve got crazy down to a science, I added to myself. That was the only explanation I had for not elbowing Titan in the gut right now.

Jerome’s gaze scanned my attire. “I think you’ll fit in just fine, Miss . . .”

“Santos. Yvonne Santos.”

“It’s a pleasure. Now, I’m making omelets for breakfast, if that suits your fancy. If not, I also make a mean crepe or a Belgian waffle.”

“An omelet sounds lovely. Thank you.”

While Jerome confirmed my preferences, I stepped to the side, needing to get the heat of Lucas Titan away from my back. I wouldn’t give in. I needed to get back on solid ground. It didn’t help that I glanced down at his flat stomach covered by a crisp white dress shirt.

“How do you not have an enormous gut having someone cook for you all the time?”

His tanned hand dropped to span across what I could picture as being a rigid six-pack. What the hell, imagination? Seriously? Stop. You’re not helping.