Read Online ARROGANT BASTARD by Winter Renshaw - Free Book Online Page B

where no one can see, that can outfox the most cunning of foxes and outsmart the smartest of smartasses. There’s rebellion in my marrow. We all have it. Most of us, if we’ve any wits about us, keep it hidden from the rest of the world. We ignore the way it calls our name when no one’s around, and then every so often, it asks us to dance when it’s sure no one’s watching.
    Jensen Mackey has messed with the wrong Miller. From here on out, I’m dancing with rebellion if only to teach him a lesson.
    “I thought about what you said.” I cross my legs and sit up straight, batting my lashes. I drag my hand across his comforter before scooting back.
    “That quick? Don’t need a night to sleep on it?” He’s testing me, but I think he’s scared. I’m about to call his bluff.
    My throat constricts. My face heats. I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once. I unbutton my cardigan one pearl button at a time. I may as well be undressing in slow motion, but it’s absolutely intentional. Jensen stands by his dresser, his golden eyes wide as saucers and nothing coming from his rarely silent lips. The room spins like the bed is some sort of merry-go-round, but I don’t stop.
    Two buttons…
    Three buttons…
    Four…
    My cleavage peeks out from my white camisole, drawing his eyes to my milky flesh like bees to honey.
    “I know you want to touch them,” I say, having absolutely no intention of letting him come anywhere near them.
    This is all a bit of an experiment that will hopefully turn into a deterrent. The constant provocation since the day we met needs to stop. It ends now. Here. With me calling his bluff.
    “Waverly.” My name is a low rumble in his throat. He swallows, daring my eyes to travel down to where his fist still clenches his towel around his waist. There’s clearly a pitched tent thing going on. It’s much bigger than it was before and much bigger than I expected a penis to be.
    Do they get that big?
    I smile and hope he can’t see me gradually losing my cool. I summon the strength of the Harlequin heroine resting on the pages between my mattress and box spring and slap a smoldering expression on my face.
    What’s happening right now is a highly strategic game, not unlike chess.
    Your move, Jensen.
    His lips form a straight line. His eyes search mine. “You sure this is what you want?”
    I could slap him. He’s should be taking the bait, not calling my bluff. Where’s the lusty gaze he threw my way earlier? Where are his needy hands? His greedy intrusion? What happened to Jensen from the laundry room?
    “No, I’m just undressing in front of you for no reason.” I roll my eyes.
    “I’d hardly call it undressing. You wear more layers than an Eskimo, and you haven’t even taken your sweater off yet.” He leans against his dresser like we’ve got all the time in the world.
    News flash: our entire family is downstairs and it’s only a matter of time before they notice we’re the only two missing.
    I swallow the anger swelling in my chest and let his words bounce right off me. I’m not losing this game. I’m playing to win.
    “You clearly didn’t understand a word of what I said to you earlier.” He still hasn’t moved from his perch by the dresser.
    My face pinches. Once again, Jensen has found a way to burrow himself right beneath my skin. I resist the urge to scratch.
    “What didn’t I understand?” I brush my hair over my shoulder.
    “You’re doing all this…” His eyes fall to my cleavage and then lift up to my gaze. “Because you think it’s what I want. Because I planted the seed. Because I told you I thought about you. You’re doing it all for me. The control is still mine, Waverly. You’re a smart girl. How can you not understand that?”
    No, no. This isn’t going the way I planned.
    He ambles across the room to the side of the bed. The grip on his towel loosens, threatening to let go altogether any second now. My heart