The Dominant's Obsession

Chapter 4

D A C I A N

As Dacian crossed verbal swords with the fiery woman who was apparently his new neighbor, he was intrigued in a way he hadn't been in quite a while. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to really notice a woman. And at first, with her timid hello and all her friendly-and-polite, he hadn't noticed her. Not really.

Until he'd tried to dismiss her. Then out from her timid shell had burst a little hellcat, and he'd had no choice but to sit up and take notice.

She gazed defiantly up at him now, her cheeks tinged with fire. "You enjoy being contrary, don't you?" she accused him.

"I do love to spar," he said mildly. In all things.

Her eyes flared, her color deepening as his response seemed to catch her momentarily off-guard.

That was interesting. Why did her reaction send a rush of heat through him?

Dacian gave her a second look. Her light brown hair, threaded through with gold, was wavy and hung just past her shoulders. She wore a threadbare tank top and jean shorts. She wasn't wearing a bra. He could see the hard tips of her nipples poking through the thin fabric of her top.

She wore not a hint of makeup. Her skin was opalescent, except when she blushed, in which case it turned a bright strawberry hue. Her eyes were a pale blue, framed by dark lashes against high cheekbones. She was several inches shorter than him, with nice curves and shapely legs.

He could pick her up and throw her over his shoulder like a rag doll. The thought was enticing, and distracting. His demons shifted just beneath his skin.

Focus, Dacian.

She shifted on her feet. "Stop looking at me like that."

His lips twitched. "Like what?"

Her blue eyes were distrusting. Smart girl. "Just... stop making so much noise at night. Please."

"Begging now?" He frowned. "You had so much fire a moment ago. What happened?"

Her eyes narrowed again. Her hands tightened their grip on the small journal she held until her knuckles shone white.

What was she writing about? Why was he curious about her secrets?

"Fine. Don't make so much noise at night," she repeated through gritted teeth.

"Or you'll... what?" He tsked at her. "You need an or else."

"Or I'll report you for a noise violation."

"I don't make nearly enough noise for that," he murmured. "I doubt anyone other than you can hear me. What will you do when the police laugh in your face?"

"I'll report you to the building supervisor."

"And when he relays the message to me, but doesn't enforce anything?"

She frowned and lowered her gaze as she seemed to think this over for a while. Finally she glared back up at him. "You're going to be a courteous neighbor from now on, or I'm going to find a way to make you pay," she said imperiously. "And believe you me, you won't like it."

That's more like it. "Is that so?" he said mildly.

"Yes."

He considered her for a moment, then sighed. He should just be straight with her. Stop torturing the poor girl. "The truth is, being quiet at night is not really an option for me."

She frowned at him. "Why not?"

"It just isn't," he snapped.

As the silence lengthened between them, she chewed on her lower lip. The movement inevitably drew his gaze to her mouth. To her pale pink lips that were thin, but no less attractive...

Damn it, now he was wondering what she'd taste like.

Stop it. She was his neighbor. That meant she was off-limits.

"Well if you won't leave, then I will," he said, getting to his feet. He didn't look back as he climbed back inside his apartment.

Best to stay away from her. He didn't need that kind of trouble in his life.