****Christine’s POV**
“Get your hands off me!” I yelled at him, my voice echoing with a mix of anger and confusion. I struggled to understand why he was behaving like this.
No, Christine, focus.
"I don’t plan on doing that. I told you I always get what I want."
His arrogance was infuriating, believing he could take whatever he desired simply because of his wealth.
I will show him that I am not like the others.
In a moment of defiance, I raised my hand to slap him across the face, but he caught my wrist with a swift, unyielding grip and threw me down onto the bed, positioning himself on top of me.
I found myself gazing deeply into his striking gray eyes, lost in a whirlwind of emotions where thinking and feeling became indistinguishable. His eyes held a captivating intensity that both intrigued and frightened me.
I was locked in that stare until his confident words pulled me back to reality.
"You want me just as much as I want you."
His pride was suffocating. I couldn’t allow him to see me as a mere object to fulfill his desires.
With a surge of determination, I pushed him away forcefully, and he landed on the other side of the bed, momentarily stunned.
Springing to my feet, I bolted out of his house as if my life depended on it.
The cool night air hit me as I opened my car door and slumped into my seat, my heart racing.
How did he manage to get to me again, despite my constant reminders to guard my heart against his charm?
Why can’t my heart learn? I know all he wants is a fleeting moment of passion, nothing more, yet I always find myself enchanted by him.
I couldn't help but wonder why he hadn’t given up yet. I had turned down his advances so many times that I had lost count, repeatedly telling him that I would never let him have his way with me. He should have moved on; after all, he had a line of women falling at his feet.
What exactly does he need from me?
And then there was that persistent feeling gnawing at me—that maybe, just maybe, he actually likes me.
I needed to escape before he concocted another one of his devious tricks.
---
**Tyler’s POV**
I couldn’t shake her from my thoughts. All day long, my mind had been consumed by visions of her, especially when she walked in wearing that tight red dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. As she swayed her hips, it felt as though she was casting a spell, drawing me closer and tempting me back into a world of desire.
Seeing her expertly crafted hair only deepened my curiosity about where she planned on going next. Just then, the memory of Steven Jones asking her out flashed in my mind, igniting a storm within me that was impossible to quell.
Christine was mine to claim, my prize to take.
Without a second thought, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close, my heart racing with anticipation.
“Get your hands off me!” she yelled, her voice sharp and defiant.
The moment those words slipped from her cherry-red lips, my mind fixated solely on the desire to kiss them.
"I don’t plan on doing that. I told you I always get what I want."
It frustrated me that she seemed to resist my advances while simultaneously seeking attention from that jerk, Steven.
Anger painted her features, and knowing Christine as I did, I recognized that she was not the type to remain calm when provoked.
She raised her hand to hit me, but I blocked her swiftly, pushing her onto the bed and positioning myself above her. For a brief moment, she fell silent, staring up at me with a mix of confusion and undeniable attraction, and I seized the opportunity to draw her in closer.
"You want me just as much as I want you."
Instantly, I saw her expression shift, a realization dawning on her—I'd hit a nerve. Before I could react to the shift in the air, she pushed me off and dashed out of the room.
I didn’t chase after her; doing so would only deepen her resentment. But as I sat there alone, I became more convinced than ever that Christine De Niro harbored feelings for me.
