My jaw tightens. “Then pretend. You’ll need the strength.”
Her eyes flash. “Strength for what? Fending off another deranged stunt? No thanks.”
God, the way she spits fire at me, it should piss me off.
Instead, my cock throbs. It’s been throbbing since yesterday.
Since I tasted her and fell in the deepest pit of lust. I can’t sleep. I can’t think straight. Hell, I can’t even walk straight without the steel pipe getting in my way.
I adjust it now, watch her cheek turn red, and lean back against the counter, arms folded, tattoos stretched across the muscles of my chest and biceps, sweat still clinging to my T-shirt.
She hates me, hates all this, but her gaze betrays her—sliding over my ink, lingering where the fabric clings.
I catch her and raise my brows. “Like what you see?” I ask, voice low and taunting.
Her glare could cut steel. “I’d rather lick the floor.”
“Go ahead,” I smirk. “Or you could come closer. Examine it properly. I’ll let you lick it instead. It’s much nicer. And unlike the floor, it will reward you much more satisfactorily.”
She flushes, mouth opening, shutting, then snapping closed like a trap.
She hates me. She wants me. She doesn’t know what the hell to do with herself.
Eventually she mutters, “Where’s your washroom?”
I point down the hall. Watch her stalk off.
Of course she tries climbing out the window. She’s adorably predictable.
And when she comes out ass first, I’m waiting outside before her sneaker even hits the sill. Arms folded. Expression flat.
When she catches me standing there, she freezes.
I swear she looks genuinely shocked. Like she can’t fathom why someone like me would chase her instead of letting her run.
Before I can explain, the front doors open and the sound of voices carry.
I step up to her before we’re interrupted. Again.
She backs away until her back touches the wall, eyes wide when she sees I’m deadly serious.
“I’m going to say this once so listen up, Ruby. I want you. I’m going to have you. You’re going to be a good girl and let me inside that beautiful, heavenly cunt that’s already driving me insane after smelling it just now.”
She opens her mouth. I hold up a hand.
“You’ll get your chance to speak, baby, but I’m not done. I’m not an asshole. And I will respect your genuine no’s if you mean them. And yes, I can fucking tell when you don’t. Bluster won’t sway me when it comes to wanting you, fucking you, and protecting you. It won’t sway me when you piss me off by letting some fucker look at you two seconds too long or, heaven forbid, come within a whisper of touching you. Bluster won’t save youif you sass me and get your ass spanked for it. It most definitely won’t save you if you try to run from me again.”
I step closer, rub the tip of my nose over hers. “Now, you.”
“Where the fuck do you get off?—”
“Bluster.”
Outrage lights her up.
“Listen you sonofabitch?—”
“Bluster.”
