Wreck Me (Corrupt Legacy Series #2)

I feel my cheeks burn. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I can’t stop.”

“Remember, we’re friends. I have one condition for this friendship, though.”

He gestures for me to continue, and his shirt reveals a patch of his sculpted abdomen. I itch to trace my finger over every plane and ridge so I can draw him later.

“Eyes up here, princess.”

I slap his abdomen and in the process tug his shirt down to hide the reason for my distraction. His arms snake around my waist, pulling me to him, and I end up straddling him.

“You like me on top.”

“Apparently.”

“Behave. Friends.” I don’t know who I’m trying to remind of that more.

“What is this ominous condition of your friendship?”

“That you don’t cause more of a ruckus.”

Our mouths are one inch away from touching, making me wonder how his would feel pressed against mine. The anticipation ignites a raucous flutter in my belly.

“I can’t promise that.”

“Then we’re not going to be friends.”

He curls his hand around my nape and drags me even closer to him. He’s wrecking my composure with his possessiveness.

“Good, because I don’t want to be friends.”

He brushes his nose against mine, and goose bumps erupt on my skin. This concoction of desire and need for more drives me insane.

“I don’t like you,” I whisper, struggling to remember why “we” are a bad idea. The way he makes me feel is something I’ve never experienced before. It’s so potent that my rationality stands no chance. The biggest proof would be that I am doing absolutely nothing to stop him.

“You don’t seem to have a problem with me at this moment.” The corner of his mouth tips up into a smirk, perfectly fitting the bad boy vibe that he emanates. He takes what he wants. And right now, that’s me. He’s so conceited. I have awful taste in guys, apparently.

I suck in a breath as his finger ghosts over my abdomen, awakening dormant needs. His touch maddens me. Yet, I crave even more. I can feel the shackles rattling, trying to free something inside of me.

He places his forehead against mine, both our breathing turning heavier. The air around us brims with the forbidden, and I want to indulge so badly.

“You’re going to be mine, princess,” he vows, and a shiver runs through me. That wakes me up from whatever trance he put me under. I jump up, putting some much needed distance between us, trying to gather myself.

The boat lurches, threatening to tip at any moment. Dane jumps up, making it even worse. Planting his feet, he deliberately rocks the boat. The asshole.

I inch toward him with a sweet smile plastered on my face, then push hard at his chest. His arms flail out, and he tumbles backward into the water with a splash. Meanwhile, I balance the boat with my feet.

“You needed to cool down.”

He drags a hand through his hair, sliding it back. Those eyes, almost onyx, now burn with mischief. He swims to the boat like a predator chasing his prey. All wet, he looks even more mouthwatering. I clench my legs on instinct at the devastatingly handsome guy stalking toward me. He heaves his body up the side of the boat, and I force my mouth to stay closed at the panty-melting vision.

His arms are corded, his upper chest carved in stone with muscles visible behind his soaked shirt. I’m still contemplating him when the boat tips sideways. Shrieking, I topple face-first into the water.

My teeth clatter, my body’s temperature drops the moment I’m submerged.

“All cooled down, princess?”

Oh, no, he’s not getting away with this.