When the same creaking noise as before breaks the silence of the room, I force my eyes open in time to spot a figure looming over me.
Holy shit!
I inhale a breath, ready to scream the house down. Before the sound can be released, a heavy hand lands on top of my mouth while the other snakes around the back of my skull so I can’t slip free of the hold.
You read about this kind of thing happening all the time. Especially in Chicago. That’s why we were religious about locking all the doors and windows.
But here?
In bumfuck nowhere?
No way. It’s the reason I felt comfortable enough to sleep with the porch door open, allowing more of a breeze to enter the room. Other than Hawthorne, we’re pretty far from civilization.
“Quiet,” the deep voice rumbles near my ear.
Kingsley?
The breath rushes from my lungs as relief leaves my tense muscles feeling weak. I’m seriously going to kill him! The big jerk took at least ten years off my life!
I growl from behind the hand, struggling against the steely hold he has on me.
“What part of quiet don’t you understand?” The mattress dips as he settles beside me. “Calm down or I’ll keep my hand over your mouth.”
I press my lips together before going limp. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, his features coalesce under the stream of moonlight filtering in through the window.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re not very good at following directions?”
He takes his sweet damn time relinquishing his hold. I’m tempted to snap my teeth at his fingers when he finally pulls them away. Maybe that would teach him a lesson regarding the wisdom of breaking into an unsuspecting girl’s room in the middle of the night.
Ignoring the question, I fire off one of my own instead. “Are you crazy?”
“Lower your voice, Hawthorne.” Humor simmers in his tone. “We wouldn’t want your parents to wake up and find me in your bed, now would we?”
Damnation, he’s right. Griffin and Eloise would not be pleased.
I ground my teeth together before forcing out another question. “What do you want?” What I’ve come to understand is that Kingsley doesn’t do anything without an end goal in mind.
He smirks as if I’m finally catching on to the game we’ve been playing. “Now that is a more interesting question.”
My belly hollows out as a predatory gleam enters his eyes. “And yet you still haven’t answered it.”
His gaze drifts down my body as he reaches out to toy with a lock of hair that has fallen over my bare shoulder. Only now am I slammed with the realization that I shed my tank top earlier this evening. The night had turned stuffy, which is why I left the screen door open.
It’s not a mistake I’ll make again.
Hastily I tug at the sheet that has pooled at my waist before hauling it up to my collarbone.
“No reason to cover yourself on my account.” He continues to stare at my chest as if he has X-ray vision and can see through the tan-colored sheet. “After today, I’ve become a real fan of your titties.”
Heat slams into my cheeks as the asshole’s words from lunch echo throughout my head.
Itty-bitty titty committee.
It’s not the first-time jokes have been cracked at the expense of my breast size and it won’t be the last. Normally something idiotic like that would roll right off my back, but for some unknown reason it stuck with me today. Probably because I was forced to wear that stupid shirt, and it made me feel self-conscious.
“There’s plenty of reason,” I mutter.
“Lower the sheet.” When my fingers tighten around the material, he adds, “It’s nonnegotiable.”
I’m really starting to hate when he says that.
“Summer,” he warns, hard gaze flicking to mine.
With a huff, I shove the sheet to my waist and glare. Not that he would notice, because his gaze is glued to my breasts. My fingers curl, biting into the cotton draped over my lower half.
“Happy?” I growl, embarrassment swamping me. The only thing getting me through this excruciating moment is that the room is cloaked in darkness. It would be so much worse if he were staring at me in broad daylight.
“Extremely.”
What I refuse to do is cower before Kingsley. If he thinks I’ll give him the satisfaction of making me cry, he’s got another thing coming. As that thought circles through my head, I straighten my shoulders and thrust out my breasts.
Fuck him.
He studies me leisurely, as if we have all the time in the world. “You don’t believe what he said, do you?”
“Who?”
“Axel.”
I shake my head, unsure what we’re discussing. He reaches out, wrapping his thumb and forefinger around one nipple. Almost instantly it pebbles beneath his touch as he strokes it. Liquid heat shoots from my breast straight to my core before exploding upon impact.