You were both sent to clear out Shady Belle of any residents so the gang could move in and lay low. At first, things were going well. Until a group of O’Driscolls showed up. Why? You’d never know.

He hated you. You hated him. This wasn’t ideal.

Still, Arthur had you pressed against the side of a wardrobe, the two of you squeezed into a tight space while trying to avoid being seen.

Arthur covered your mouth with his hand, the other pressing you further against the wardrobe. His breathing was unsteady and ragged.

“Mmmh!” you tried to protest, your hands gripping tightly into his shirt.

He shot you a look as he pressed his large hand more firmly over your mouth. “Shush, will you? They’ll hear you if you don’t keep your goddamn mouth shut for once,” he whispered.

You rolled your eyes at him; with your mouth covered, that was all you could do.

He huffed, not appreciating your sassy demeanor right now. He was too focused on the O’Driscolls to deal with your attitude, yet he found himself growing more and more irritated.

His eyes locked with yours, and he pressed his knee against your thigh—a silent warning to behave.

But provoking him and messing with him—no matter the situation—was your favorite hobby. So you lifted one leg and wrapped it around his waist, tugging on his shirt tightly.

At the feel of your leg around his waist, his eyes widened. His thoughts started racing. He felt your hands gripping his shirt tightly. He leaned closer to your ear, his voice low and harsh.

"You’re begging to get slapped, you know that?" he growled, trying to sound threatening, his hand still firmly covering your mouth.

At the mention of a slap, you raised a brow and tried to shake him off, but it didn’t seem to work. You tried to mumble in protest, but it all came out as meaningless sounds.

His nose was nearly touching your cheek as he leaned even closer to your ear, his hot breath brushing your skin.

“Keep your smart-ass comments to yourself.” he practically growled.

His free hand slid from the wardrobe, gripping your thigh already wrapped around his waist and pulling it tighter around him. His mind was trying not to do anything more scandalous that would get you both caught, but because of you, he was becoming more and more inclined to it.

He couldn’t believe himself. Why was he reacting like this? His thoughts were a mess. He was supposed to hate you. He did hate you.

His body was close to yours, practically pinning you against the wardrobe, and yet he found himself wanting to get even closer. It was hard to concentrate on the O’Driscolls when he had a gorgeous woman wrapped around his waist.