Rising from the Ashes (Andrew) novel Chapter 1799

Andrew easily caught Chantelle's hand mid-strike. Then, he stepped forward sharply, pinning her against the wall in one smooth move.

"You—" she growled, the spark in her eyes flaring with real anger. She lifted her knee, aiming a kick at him.

However, Andrew was faster. His leg slipped between hers, firm and unyielding, stopping her in place.

Chantelle's breath caught. She could feel the pressure of his muscular thigh locking her in place, and her heartbeat pounded wildly.

How could this jerk be so damn forceful?

They were face to face, so close their noses nearly brushed.

"Don't test my patience. You lost a bet. Now honor it. Don't make me force your hand," Andrew whispered in her ear.

Chantelle felt a rush of heat that made her squirm. It was not from fear, but from something far more confusing.

"You're hurting my hand, you brute! Let go, Andrew. That's an order!" she snapped, though her voice lacked the edge it needed.

Andrew did not budge. He swept her into his arms without warning and carried her up to the third floor. With a casual kick, he shut the bedroom door behind them.

Then, he dropped her on the bed. Her body bounced once, twice, as she scrambled upright. Her mouth opened, ready to yell. However, something soft landed on her face. She pulled it off, glanced down, and her entire face went red.

It was a pair of black tights.

She held the sheer fabric in her hand, immediately sensing how thin it was.

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