“Talk to me; take your mind off it.”
Oh, now he wants to talk? I remember how deep things got last night and shake my head. “No.”
He stretches out next to me like we’re having a lazy post-coital chat. It sucks because his presence, scent, and heat are triggers for my arousal now. My clit is throbbing so hard I want to scream.
“You never told me what you think of my brother,” he says.
“He’s on the list,” I mutter.
“What list?”
“The list of people I want to kill,” I say because my filter is gone.
He looks amused. “Am I at the top of the list?”
I roll my eyes. Mr. Ego. “No.” Although, he might be if he doesn’t let me cum soon.
He cocks his head to the side. “Then who is?”
“Why does it matter? Aren’t you upset that you’re on the list?”
He shrugs. “I am on many such lists. You’re the first person to tell me outright.” He grins like this pleases him. “Now tell me. Who else do you want to kill?”
I wriggle to my side, turning away so it’s clear I’m ending this conversation.
He rolls me over. “I have ways of making you talk.”
“What are you going to do? Sprain my other ankle?”
He cups my breast, grazing my nipple with his thumb. “No. Not when there are more fun things I could do to you.”
I push his hand away, but he simply lets it fall to my waist.
“You know what I do for Fraternitas?”
“You work for them.” I’ve tried not to think about this too much, but it’s easy to put the pieces together. And after last night’s confessional, I feel like we’ve trespassed miles beyond the boundary I’d set if I were smart. “Like an enforcer?” I guess.
“That’s one word for it. I am the muscle. Fraternitas’ show of strength. I take out the trash.” So, the murders he committed in the stairwell weren’t his first. His job is to kill people or make them disappear.
His ringed hand rests on my hip. A killer’s hand, big enough to squeeze the life out of a victim, his face the last thing they see.
But it’s such a nice face. I reach up and touch it because I can. No one else gets to see him like this, touch him like this.
It makes me feel powerful.
His cheek curls into my palm. His stubble scrapes my palm. “You pretend to be mean and hateful, but deep down, you’re sweet.”
“No, I’m not.” I shift in the sheets, trying to get my surging arousal to calm down. “Shut up. I’m a psycho killer like you.”
His voice is warm like it gets when he’s cooing sweet nothings in my ear after sex. “Bunny?—”
“I’m an attack rabbit of death.” I place a finger on his lips. “I’m warning you.”
He licks my finger and then swallows it. I close my eyes, dizzy with desire.
“Gods, Jaeger…”
He pulls my finger out of his mouth and kisses the tip. “I want to know who you want to kill.”
