I was a selfish, selfish man.

Yeah, I’d taken her from the dance studio to save her a night of sleeping on a cold, wooden floor with stripper poles for company, but the roommate thing? The invite? Fuck, that definitely hadn’t been part of the plan.

Riley sat across from me, wearing her sweats, a pale hand escaping the sleeve, clutching her wine glass, the last dregs of Merlot stagnating in the bottom of the bowl.

My dining room afforded us a view of Miami, of the lights, the palm trees, the coast. This was prime real estate, and I’d definitely paid for the view.

“Jax,” she said and electrified me with my name. She set down her wine glass beside her empty plate—Christ, she’d almost licked it clean of lasagna—then scooched to the edge of her seat. “This place is amazing, it’s seriously the most gorgeous apartment I’ve ever been in. Are you sure you want me staying here? You don’t even know me.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Are you trying to tell me something? You’re the ax murderer?”

“No.” She laughed, and it felt right in here, in my apartment. Those were dangerous thoughts. Dickhead thoughts.

I’d never backed down from a challenge or set my eyes on a goal I couldn’t attain, and right now, she was that. “Then I don’t see a problem,” I replied. “We’ve already discussed this, and that conversation’s over. Got it?”

“Do you always talk like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you think everyone will fall in line and do exactly as you say.”

“It’s operant conditioning,” I replied.

“So people obey you, and you act like they’ll obey you as a result. It’s a reward system for you to be obeyed?”

“Wow,” I said. “I didn’t think you’d catch that.”

“Why? Because I swing around a pole by day?” She flashed me a taut smile, all teeth and tension. “I majored in psychology.”

“Oh? What’s a psychology major doing in a dance studio by day? And night.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to judge me. Don’t you own, like, ten strip clubs?”

“Five,” I replied. “And I’m always looking for more talent.”

Riley’s shit-eating grin vanished. She looked down at her empty plate, then rose and made to lift it. “I should—”

“No.” I shoved my chair back and circled the vast table my interior decorator had stuck in here. It was meant to make me feel like a king at a fucking banquet, but it left me empty. Empty chairs brought only silence, after all.

I reached Riley and took the plate from her. My thumb brushed the back of her hand and she stiffened. I did too. Just not in the same way.

“I’ll take that,” I said and removed the plate from her grasp. I plonked it back on the table again, left it there, then faced her. “I don’t want you to be a stripper in my club, if that’s what’s on your mind, Riley.”

She didn’t speak but chewed on her bottom lip instead. That mouth belonged on mine. I needed it on my dick, on my body. I needed it parted and moaning my name, over and over again.

I dragged my fingers down her cheek, and she leaned into the touch, squeezed her eyes shut tight so the lids wrinkled up.

“I wouldn’t want anyone looking at you like that,” I said.

“Like what?” She met my gaze again, arched an eyebrow, but didn’t step away from my touch.

“Like you’re a fantasy waiting to come true.” My fingers slipped beneath her chocolate locks, trailed around to the back of her neck and took hold of it.

“I should get some sleep,” she said. “I have an early class in the morning. Thank you for your hospitality. I’ll consider your offer tomorrow, in the light of day, when there’s some—” she cleared her throat, then muttered, “distance.”

I released her, immediately, trailed my fingers down her shoulder and stepped back. “Let me show you to your room.” I walked past her. Fuck it, if she caught a glimpse of my dick, raging against my pants, all the better. The woman wanted me, though she’d resisted me thus far.

A first for me.

I’d never had to try hard for women. I’d never had to chase.

I entered the hall, listening for her footsteps behind me, soft on the hardwood in here. I halted in front of the guest room then opened it up and clicked on the overhead lights. It was clean and dust-free, well maintained, as was everything in my apartment.

The queen-sized bed against the wall was outfitted in white sheets, and I pictured tearing off Riley’s sweats and dirtying those sheets. Showing her feelings she’d never had. Possessing her fucking soul.

“Here,” I said. “There’s a bathroom down the hall, and I’m right next door to you if you need anything.” I nodded to my open bedroom door a few feet away.

“Thank you,” she said, and turned her head, the light catching the flecks of hazel in her irises. I traced the line of that pale, swanlike neck, the soft skin peering out above her top. I caught her eye, and she flushed bright red. A tiny noise escaped her, almost a moan.

I walked toward her, and she backed into the doorjamb, yelped, and let out a strangled laugh.

“Good night,” I said, stopping inches from her body. Heat grew between us, and her breasts rose and fell, almost frantically. She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip, and I fixated on it.

“Good night.” It came from her in a croak.

I reached past her and flicked on the hall light at the switch, then winked. “In case you get scared or lost. You know where to find me.”

“Thanks.” She slipped sideways and into her room, still flushing, then nodded once and shut the guest room door.

She still hadn’t caved. This woman was the only one I’d wanted like this in… ever, and she was the only one who’d resisted. Usually, a look was enough. A smile. The rumble of my voice.

I stood there, frozen in front of her door, and leaned my forearm against the jamb, balled my hand into a fist.

Every muscle screamed for her. My dick ached. The scent of her was thick on the air, lavender and vanilla now, no sweat. She’d showered before dinner, and listening to the water hitting the tiles in the bathroom had been torture in its purest form.

What is it about this chick? She’s just another woman. She’s not anything special.

Except, she was. She was defiant, angry, sexy, sleek, and willing to sleep on the floor at her work without any fear. And she moved like a dancer, like a queen.

“Idiot,” I muttered and made to push off the door.

A tight, soft moan stopped me.

Those tight muscles fucking liquefied.

Had that been…?

God is punishing me. I don’t know what it’s for. No, that’s a lie, ha. I’ll always be his favorite dickhead.

Another moan, and my cock throbbed against my pants, scraping and begging for freedom. Moisture there, too. Precum. That hadn’t happened in years. I was so turned on I’d leaked.

Yeah, definitely punishing me.

I leaned in, listening hard, drawn to her sounds even though this had to qualify me as a stalker. Again, baby, come on. Let me hear you come.

Riley’s voice lifted ever so slightly. The moan was louder this time and accompanied by the wet sounds of her pleasure. I pictured her on the bed, two fingers working that pussy, lips opening like a flower to the morning sun, and another one circling her clit, her legs shaking, her tits out, nipples slightly puffy, pink.

Her face contorted, rapture tearing her apart from the inside out. Lips open, tongue trailing saliva across them, eyes open but glazed over, caught in her fantasy.

Fuck!

“Oh god,” she whispered. “Oh god, oh god.”

Is that what they’re calling me now?

“Oh god, baby, yes.”

My fists were steel blocks, and the bar between my shoulders pained me. I held back so hard I was on the brink of snapping. One second more, that was all, and I’d have to turn and walk away or I’d crash in there like a devilish beast and ask her if it was me she needed inside her.

Me she wanted to—

“Jax,” she whimpered. “Jax, oh my god.”

Stick a fork in me, I’m done.

I spun on my heel, dropped one hand to my dick, and walked back to my room, gripping it hard, stroking my thumb over the outline of its tip. My hips jerked. I was almost there.

Riley’s moans were muted now, thank god.

If I heard what she said I’d turn back. I couldn’t turn back. Couldn’t scare her.

My body screamed “beast,” while my mind restrained it.

I shut my bedroom door and locked it for good measure then unzipped and brought my cock out.

It was so hard it’d gone red. It was fucking angry. It needed release.

It needs Riley.

She would be different from the others. Experienced, softer, sweeter.

I walked to the wall that separated the guest room from mine, placed my forehead against it and exhaled, hard. No noise, but this was the closest point to her.

Come for me, baby. Come hard. Break for me. Moan for me. Scream my name.

I spat on my palm and smoothed it over my dick, the ridges, the veins, picturing Riley’s expression the first time she saw it. She’d gasp, her eyelids would flutter. She’d wonder how it’d possibly fit inside that tight pussy, between those puffy lips.

I’d bend her over backward, wrap those legs around her fucking head, lift her up and work her on my dick until she came undone and pulsed around it, worked it for all she was worth.

My strokes were steady but fast. My breaths whistled through clenched teeth.

“Fuck,” I softly growled. “Fuck, Riley. You’re mine. You’re mine.”

My balls tightened, lifted. My hips bucked on their own, cock thrusting against my palm, when really it belonged inside her. I turned and braced myself on the desk, still thrusting. Cum spurted from me, splattered on the wood, and I groaned, threw my head back.

“Riley.”

The room hazed into nothingness then came back again.

Shit. This was insane. I’d never moaned a woman’s name before. And I’d just come on my desk.

I hurried to my en suite bathroom, wet the end of a towel, then brought it back and cleaned up, shaking my head. I didn’t jack off, I fucked. I didn’t moan the name of a woman, I focused on my own pleasure.

This was different.

It left me with one conclusion.

Riley would be mine. I had to have her. Had to dominate her, like I did everything else.

And with her living next door, it would be that much easier. And that much more difficult.