"Are you even listening to yourself?" ( hEY LYN. )
“— I listen to myself all the time. Seems like I’m the only one listening, anyhow.”
It was an off-handed comment; a blithe countenance in his speech showing how utterly bored he was with the conversation. How he’d much rather be reading the book he’d had propped open before the woman had oh so rudely snatched it from his grasp just moments before. It took an excruciatingly long moment to regain his composure after the stunt — something he didn’t know could happen, what with the iron grip he had on his instincts, on the way he held himself so he couldn’t, wouldn’t react in a way much too dangerous for the people around him to handle.
She always knew how to push his buttons.
“What? D’you think you’re acting cute right now? D’you think this is funny, trying to make me angry?”
He could see the amusement dancing in her gaze; the way she held the book behind her back, the way she swung away when he moved to reach out, to wrap an arm around her waist. It was getting to him, that was true — but in a wholly different way than he was expecting.
It was the chase, really. She made for good prey, something to make the wolf in him want to growl, to snap, to pin her down and show her who the real alpha was in this arrangement they had going. Because he’d been letting her recalcitrance slide as of late; he’d been letting her get away with so much, it was almost sickening.
Moving ever closer, he allowed her to dance her way around the couch, that damnable smirk making one slide onto his own features in a matching silhouette of mischief. It was only when he knew she’d paused for a moment, just a scant second that he swung himself over the back of the couch — hands curling around her sides, pushing her against the wall. Body pinning hers there as palms slid over her sides slowly, methodically. Satisfaction pouring off of him in waves as he stared down at her.
“Maybe you should listen to me more often, baby. Might do you some good.”
Lips skimmed, feather-light along her throat, suddenly sharp teeth dragging over her pulse as he nudged her head back with a hand — the other plucking the aforementioned book out of her now slack grasp swiftly. Leaning away, he leveled wolfish grin her way as he moved back to his seat with a time-earned grace he knew she enjoyed watching.
