Skylar’s tears soak into my palm. Damn him for planting those images in her mind. Even if she wants Bronwyn dead, this isn’t right.
“Even did her eyebrows. And her hair. Looks crazy, Bro.”
My woman squeezes her eyes tight. Opens them again.
There’s no grief in them.
There’s darkness. Determination.
Either to survive this or kill Jett, it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad he doesn’t get to ruin my girl.
“Let Reese have her fun, then.” I mean it. With every bone in my body. Bronwyn’s earned it. “I’ll be here. Waiting for the boyfriend.” The piece of shit who was going to help kill my Skylar.
“See ya.” Another laugh, and he’s gone.
“Knox.” I let Skylar remove my mask. Suddenly, the idea of walls between us infuriates me. “You’re really not afraid of them. You respect them.”
She isn’t asking about Bronwyn, but I don’t like the direction this conversation is taking either. “I told you to shut up.”
“Yes, you did.” She parts her legs wider, leaning into me.
Mind games.
I’m not mad about that, not at all. Still, I cock an eyebrow, pretending to be pissed off. “What the are you doing?”
Electricity surges through me as she scoots closer, our lips a hairbreadth away.
No more games. Besides, refusing her is impossible. I curl one hand around the side of her neck, my mouth teasing hers.
“This is me, needing to make sense of this.” She flicks the tip of her tongue on the corner of my mouth, driving me insane with that light touch. “I need to get out of here. With you. If you’re not scared of them, I don’t see why we can’t leave this place.”
Both my hands go to her thighs, claiming flesh that’s already mine.
“Not yet.” My voice is rough, a growl against her mouth.
“We’ll see about that,” she sasses.
The momentary confusion at her statement has me loosening my grip on her thighs.
Her evil smirk is the last thing I see before she swivels her legs to the side and hops off the table.
When her feet land on the floor, my confusion vanishes. In its place, there’s profound curiosity. I’m dying to see what she’ll do next.
Skylar doesn’t disappoint me. As she saunters over to the hooks, she teases me by whipping her shirt off and dropping it to the floor.
Beneath the middle hook, where I hung her last night, she turns around. Raises her arms.
Cocking an eyebrow.
Licking her lips.
Killing me.
Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck.
Her perky breasts. That taunting smirk. All that skin.
