The Hotter You Burn Read Online Free Page B

or after he’d chased her down.
    â€œWell...I kind of have a key.” She plucked at an invisible piece of lint on her shirt, adding, “Is now a bad time to mention I don’t like the repairs you’ve made on the house?”
    â€œYou do not have a key. Jase changed the locks our first day here.” The guy was distrustful of strangers. They all were. They’d learned to be.
    â€œWell...he may or may not have left the new keys on the porch while he ran to the backyard to get his tools.”
    And she’d just happened to be nearby, watching? And none of them had noticed? “As of tomorrow, your key won’t work.”
    A flash of fury in her ocean-blues, quickly extinguished by defeat. She put her chin down and hunched her shoulders, the same pose she’d struck in so many of the pictures. “Yeah. I figured.”
    Damn it. His chest began to ache. How many knocks had this girl taken in her young life?
    And why did he even care? Yes, her pictures had intrigued him. Yes, she was hot as hell. But devoting so much time and energy to one woman wasn’t his MO.
    â€œIf you were hungry, why didn’t you come to the door and
ask
us for food?”
    She went ramrod straight. “I didn’t—I don’t—need your help.”
    Ah. Pride. The downfall of so many. He’d once tried to convince himself he didn’t need anyone, either, that he was fine on his own. Meanwhile, anytime he’d spotted a happy family, he’d felt as though he were being run over by a car.
    â€œYou did—you do—need my help, or you wouldn’t be here.” As she glared at him, he added, “How’d you lose the house, anyway?”
    â€œThat’s none of your business,” she stated flatly.
    â€œYou blew through your mother’s insurance money. Got it.” The day of the purchase, the broker had prattled on about the Glass bully losing her mom earlier in the year and refusing to lower herself by getting a job. Beck had only half listened at the time and had regretted it with every fiber of his being since finding the box of photos. Now he tried to dredge up any other information he might have heard without any luck. “What are you, Harlow Glass?”
    Her lips pursed, drawing his gaze and holding it hostage. Those lips were better than the pictures had promised. Plump and red, the kind every man fantasized about devouring...and being devoured by. She shifted from foot to foot, more nervous now than when she’d first arrived.
    â€œWhat do you mean? What am I? What kind of question is that?”
    â€œThe legit kind. What do you do for a living? Are you a life coach? Accountant? Underwear model?” He looked her over, careful to avoid the dangerous beauty of her face—but the rest of her proved just as detrimental to his mental health. “Femme fatale?”
    â€œI’m not a heartbreaker, that’s for sure. Not like some people I’ve recently met.”
    â€œMeaning me?”
    â€œYes, you,” she said with a nod. “Who else? You’ve never dated the same woman twice. Not since you’ve been here, at least.”
    Or ever. “So?” Yes, he slept around. But why not? Sex felt good and for a few hours, he could drown himself in pleasure. No thoughts. No problems. No worries. His version of therapy.
    â€œSo. I wasn’t finished. You’ve got a woman in your bedroom right this second, but you’re still out here—” she waved her arm around the kitchen “—flirting with me.”
    â€œThis isn’t flirting, sweetheart. This is an interrogation.”
    â€œHa! An interrogation implies I’m being threatened, but the only part of me currently in any danger is my mouth. You’re staring.”
    Was he? “Am I scaring you...or exciting you?”
    Her eyes widened. “N-neither.”
    A stutter. Adorable. “Let’s find out how you react to actual