Chapter 14 #3
She makes a sound of protest, but she’s still tired enough that exhaustion wins out. I feel her body relax against mine, her breathing evening out as she drifts back to sleep.
When I wake up again, the apartment is quiet except for the sound of running water. The shower. Eve’s side of the bed is empty and cooling, and I can smell coffee brewing from the kitchen.
I stretch, working out the kinks in my neck, and pad out to find her. She’s standing at the counter in an oversized t-shirt that hits mid-thigh, staring at her phone with a frown.
“Late again?” I ask, and she jumps.
“Jesus, you’re quiet.” She turns back to her phone. “Iris says we can come in at twelve. Thank god. Coffee’s ready if you want some.”
“Thanks.” I move to pour myself a cup, deliberately brushing against her as I reach for a mug. She doesn’t move away.
“I should get back to bed for a couple of hours,” she says, pushing off from the counter. “And you should get out.”
“After I shower.”
“Caleb—”
I cut her off. “Five minutes.”
She glares at me. “Fine. Five minutes. Then gone.”
She disappears back into the bedroom, and I hear the springs creak as she climbs back under the covers. I finish my coffee, check a few emails on my phone, then decide to take that shower.
The hot water feels incredible after such a hectic day yesterday. I take my time, letting the steam work out the last of the tension in my shoulders. When I finally turn off the water and grab a towel, I realize I left my clothes in the bedroom.
Fuck it. It’s just a towel.
I wrap it around my waist and head back toward the bedroom to grab my shirt. The door’s open, and Eve’s curled up on her side, facing away from me. I’m quiet as I move toward where I dropped my clothes, but she must sense the movement because she rolls over.
And freezes.
Her eyes go wide, traveling from my face down to the towel and back up again. For a moment, neither of us move.
I grin when her eyes widen, trailing slowly down my chest to where the towel hangs low on my hips. “Like what you see, Lopez?”
Her cheeks flush, but her mouth curves. “Please. I’ve seen better.”
The competitive spark in me flares, sharp and instant. I stalk forward, bracing my hands on either side of her head against the mattress, leaning over until she’s caged beneath me. Her eyes flash, but she doesn’t flinch, not even an inch. God, I love that about her.
“Better?” My voice drops, rough with challenge. “Name one.”
She tilts her chin up, lips curving provocatively. “Literally anyone else who knows how to keep their ego in check.”
That does it.
I crash my mouth against hers—not gentle, not sweet. Just raw retaliation. Her gasp is all the opening I need, my tongue sliding past her lips as I claim her, tasting coffee and heat and the faintest hum of defiance she can’t quite shake.
She fists the sheets beside her head, refusing to touch me, and that only makes me kiss her harder, coaxing, demanding, daring her to give in. When she finally does—when her hand flies up to grip my jaw, nails biting into my stubble as she yanks me closer—it’s a battle and a surrender all at once.
I nip at her bottom lip, dragging it between my teeth before letting go. “Still think you’ve seen better?”
Her glare is molten, her chest rising hard and fast against mine. “Don’t flatter yourself, Wilder. You’re just… tolerable.”
I chuckle darkly, brushing my mouth across hers again, softer this time but still laced with fire. “Then I’ll just have to work harder, won’t I?”
Her mouth lifts in that taunting almost-smile, the one that always makes me want to throttle her or kiss her senseless. “You think you're winning? That's cute.”
The taunt lands like a spark to dry tinder. My grin falters, heat licking low in my gut. Before I can fire back, her hand slides up over my chest, slow and deliberate, nails grazing across skin.
I suck in a breath.
She doesn’t rush. She traces the line of my collarbone with her fingertips, then drags her palm down over my pec, circling lazily like she’s studying me. My muscles twitch beneath her touch, my pulse hammering. She knows it, too—I can see it in the way her smirk deepens.
“Relax, Wilder,” she murmurs, her fingers slipping lower, over the hard ridges of my stomach. “You’re wound so tight all the time.”
Every nerve sparks at her caress, my jaw clenching, a growl vibrating in my chest. “Christ, you’re enjoying this.”
Her eyes glint as she trails lower still, nails scraping lightly across my abs. “Of course I am.”
Fuck. I like it way too much.
My arms tremble where they’re braced on either side of her head, not from weakness but from restraint. She’s taking her time, mapping my body with her hands, and I can feel myself unraveling inch by inch.
Her touch slides lower still, brushing just above the towel, then retreating—teasing.
My cock strains painfully against the fabric, aching for her, but she deliberately avoids it, letting her hand wander back up over my ribs, my chest, my shoulders, until I’m gritting my teeth from the need building inside me.
She tilts her head, eyes glittering. “See? Not so tough now, are you?”
And when her palm finally presses lower—right over the towel, gripping me through it—I can’t hold back the guttural sound that tears out of my chest.
She laughs softly, triumphant. “Thought so.”
Her hand squeezes again, slow and deliberate, and my hips jerk before I can stop them.
The smug look on her face makes me want to flip her over and fuck that smile right off her lips—but I don’t.
Not yet. Because every stroke of her palm has my body tightening, every second of her teasing makes it harder to breathe.
“Lopez…” My voice comes out in a warning, but it only seems to encourage her. She strokes me through the towel again, dragging her palm up the length of me and back down, her eyes glittering like she’s cataloguing every twitch of my body.
“You talk so big,” she murmurs, lips brushing mine without kissing. “But your body says otherwise.”
Fuck. She’s right. My cock throbs under her hand, straining against the fabric, begging for more. I grit my teeth, fighting to keep the growl buried in my chest.
She slips her hand beneath the edge of the towel, her fingers wrapping around me, hot and sure. My hips buck into her grip uncontrollably, and she smirks like she’s just scored a win.
“Wow, you’re easy,” she taunts, stroking me slow, her thumb circling the tip until my breath hitches. “One touch, and you’re falling apart.”
I manage a growl. “You wish.”
She kisses the corner of my mouth, soft and mocking. “Tell yourself that.”
Her hand tightens, stroking harder, faster, and my head drops to her shoulder with a groan. She whispers, all smug heat, “Not so untouchable now, are you, Wilder?”
I drag in a ragged breath, glaring down at her even as she wrecks me. “Careful, Lopez,” I grit out, voice strained. “Push me too far, and I’ll ruin you.”
"Try it," she taunts. The squeeze of her hand transforms my reply into a groan, and she laughs wickedly in response. "Thought so." Her hand squeezes again, slow and deliberate, and my hips jerk. Every nerve in my body is on fire, my cock begging for more.
She smirks, slowing down even more, stroking me, her thumb circling the head in lazy precision. “Look at you,” she whispers, her voice smug. “All that ego, all that control… and one touch ruins you.”
My arms tremble where I’m braced above her. I want to thrust into her hand, flip her over, take back control. But she’s dragging it out, her strokes relentless, pumping me until my body is tight as a bowstring.
“Lopez…” My voice comes out wrecked, guttural. “Keep going.”
Her eyes glitter, her lips tilting. “Beg.”
“Never,” I growl, my jaw clenched, my hips straining into her fist.
She chuckles darkly and strokes me faster, harder, until I’m right there—so close I can taste it, the orgasm building sharp and brutal. My head falls forward, a groan ripping out of me. “Fuck—Eve—”
And then she stops.
Just… stops.
She slides her hand off me, smooth as anything, and slips out from under me, swinging her legs off the bed. My body jerks with the sudden absence, my cock aching, heavy, throbbing with denied release.
“Son of a—” I bite off the curse, fists clenching in the sheets.
She looks over her shoulder, smirk curling her lips. “Next time I tell you to get out, Wilder, you should listen.”
I glare, furious, half-ready to drag her back down and finish what she started. But then I catch the gleam in her eyes, the sheer gall of what she’s just done, and a rough laugh bursts out of me.
“Jesus Christ.” I shake my head, still reeling. “I underestimated you.”
Her grin only widens as she saunters toward the door, tossing back, “Don’t make that mistake again.”
I collapse back against the mattress, my cock still painfully hard, my chest heaving with equal parts frustration and awe.
She played me. And she won.