Jolting back as fast as I could, I ensured my back was against the wall, facing the door before it cracked open, and my guard immediately went up. The last man I thought I would see walked in.
“Hey, sweetheart.” The soft cocky smile crafted along his face both had my heart pumping and my eyes narrowing. He reminded me of all the guys at my college who had the looks of the swag but also had a number in their minds they needed to hit before they settled down with the woman their parents picked out for them.
Mr. Slick lifted a bottle of water. “You thirsty? Thought you might be after the drugs.”
What? Is it laced with poison? I bit my tongue, shaking off those thoughts. The stoic-looking one, Nicu, seemed to want to get more information out of me, which meant they wouldn't get rid of me yet.
He stepped closer, and I got a real good look at him. Man, was this man dripping in good looks. Perfectly combed hair with just a few strands of out of place, which gave him a devil-may-care look. His eyes swirled under the light, flashes of brown, green, and blue like they couldn't decide what color to be. It made a grand package with a perfectly proportioned face and chiseled jaw.
Leaning up against the bedpost, he threw the bottle next to me. His shirt was different than the one he came in with. This one was black, with the buttons all undone down his chest. The fabric clung to him, his muscles on display in just the right way to be tantalizing.
A piece of me wanted to roll my eyes and tell him off, tell him that his face and body couldn't cover up what he'd already shown, but then that would put me at a disadvantage, so I picked up the bottle, cracked it open and took a sip.
“If you couldn't tell, Cezar is a little…different.” His charming smile twitched before righting itself again. “We've tried to teach him how to treat a lady, but it just didn't stick.”
Kicking off the wall, the bed dipped next to me, and the urge to move away rode me hard. He lifted his hand, and I flinched, not knowing what game he was playing. I didn’t expect him to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I'm sorry you had to go through something like that.” His hand drifted down my shoulder, and I bit the inside of my lip, keeping the grimace from forming across my face. “Then having to deal with my older, scary brother. That’s a lot to take in twenty-four hours.”
What was his game? His angle? What was he after for him to switch the script? I needed to figure out what was happening, so I played along.
Looking down, I nodded my head quickly. “I-I just d-don't know w-what you guys want from me.”
He scooted so close that his sweet musk filled my lungs, making it hard to think of anything but him. It was both intoxicating and revolting. Don't you dare get Stockholm syndrome from this mother fucker, Kazia?
“That's why I want to help you.” His hot breath on my neck was enough to tantalize one's thoughts. His hand rested not on my knee but my upper thigh, his thumb rubbing slow small circles on my outer thigh.
He was good. Better than those frat bros I fended off at every party, in my classrooms. Hell, they even tried in line at the coffee shop, but they had nothing compared to this man. Even his eyes held a softness they could never pull off. He knew just the right buttons to push to make you want more while he skirted the line.
The only thing he couldn't hide was the tightness in his shoulders. He could hide the strain of playing his part if he wore more than a thin, tailored button-down.
I trembled, not from fear or because I was that good of an actress, but because I was trying to hold in my nervous laughter from busting out. Hold that shit in Kazia, you can’t break character. Trying to keep everything in was getting harder and harder to do. Something I promised myself I wouldn't need to do ever again.
His hand cupped my chin, lifting my face gently to his. His ever-changing eyes swirled from light to dark as he looked down at me. His lips tipped up, giving me a winning smile before he rested his head on mine, whispering to me like an old lover, but it was all a carefully crafted lie. “Let me make it up to you.” His caress on my thigh got warmer as the pressure increased, and my body liked it more than I wanted to admit. “Let me erase them from your mind.”
My body turned towards him like a flower to the sun, wanting to soak up those calculated words. Growing up without a father and the incident with my mom’s boyfriend all caused me to have a complicated relationship with men, one I didn't even realize until graduating with my bachelor's in psychology. Even knowing this, I still craved the attention, which made me hate this facade all the more.
If I was a better liar, I might’ve taken his offer and tried some seduction tactics, but I was not that girl. It was better to work with my strengths than my weaknesses. Cold hard bitch it was.
Letting a coldness settle in my words, I responded with the words I guessed would hurt him the most and put him off balance. “And how can you do that when you’re just the errand boy for your brother?”
His eyes flashed with a surge of rage, his jaw clenching as his hand got tighter on my leg. For a split second, I debated whether this was the right move. Did I want to go there with this man? Thinking about Cezar and his fight with him earlier, my fear and anger at my situation simmered along the surface, and my patience was running thin. I made a calculated move to poke the bear even more, I asked. “Seduce the woman and get her to spill all her secrets… isn't that a prostitute's game? Is that what you are?”
He shoved away from me so hard I fell backward; my body bounced on the bed as he stood there growling down at me. “What the fuck do you know, huh?!” He stared at me for a second; his body shook as hunger flickered in his eyes. Before I could dissect that, he was on me a second later, pinning my hands to the side of my head, the weight of his body crushing down on mine. The side of his face crashed into mine, his lips touching my ears as his vitriol filled his words. “If you know what's good for you, you’ll tell me everything you know about your mother.”
My wrists burned as he tightened his hands harder. He had the advantage, and I wasn't going to lie. I was scared. He seemed like he was unraveling, but I didn't know why. He couldn't have been rattled by my words, right?
Focusing on him and his body's reactions, I felt a wetness plop on my skin. Giving just a little flight, I moved my head to look at his face. Sweat collected on his forehead, his eyes shifted, and his breathing became erratic, like he couldn't get enough air. Something was going on with him, and it wasn't about me. Does this mean I have an opening?
If he’s not thinking straight, I might get a chance to get something out of him if I put enough pressure. Something I could use as some kind of leverage against the other brother, who seemed to be in charge. It was dangerous, but so was this whole situation.
“Are you okay? Do you need help?” I tried to switch my tone to be softer, but it came out judgmental and wrong.
His eyes narrowed on me before he slammed his forehead into mine. Pain split my head in two, and I couldn't keep a battered cry from spilling out of my mouth. “That's right,” his voice went dark and dangerous, and my heart skipped a beat, “That's the kind of sound you need to make when I'm on top of you.”
Shoving the pain and fear into the background, my anger reared its head at the most inopportune time. Baring my clenched teeth, I lifted my head just enough to get into his face. “I didn't think a fuck boy would be so happy to hear pitiful cries of pain. I should’ve known a small dick fucker can’t get any response from a woman but that.”
His eyes grew wide, almost like he couldn't believe what was coming out of my mouth, but I knew that once I got to a certain point when my anger took over, I would say whatever vicious thing I could, no thoughts for the repercussions. It's something I'm working on.
As soon as it came out, I braced myself for his retaliations. I imagined these men didn't have any qualms about hitting a woman.
