She was doing this on purpose. And soon… she was going to find out exactly what that cost.
********
I laughed—low, wicked, and completely unrepentant—as I reached for the towel.
The steam still clung to my skin, making it warm and slick beneath the soft fabric, but I wasn’t laughing because of the water. No, my amusement came from the fact that I’d just left him standing there in that shower, hard, frustrated, and pretending he was in control.
One thing people didn’t know about me—hell, one thing they couldn’t possibly know because they were too busy whispering insults about my looks or my body—was that when it came to driving a man to the edge, I was an artist. A master. The kind of dangerous woman mothers warned their sons about.
They could call me plain. They could call me ugly. Th
