He bends down, strong hands gripping under my knees as he lifts me with no effort. I react without thinking, locking my legs around his waist as he pulls me closer, pressing me to his chest. One hand tangles into my hair, holding me in place.
There’s no softness and no hesitation from him.
“Goddamn it, Brielle. Tell me you understand everything I said. I need to hear it.” He pulls back only enough to look into my eyes for confirmation.
I don’t give it to him.
Instead, I slam my lips to his and cut off whatever reassurance he’s looking for. Our tongues dance together, more like a challenge between us than anything else.
Emris moves without setting me down, carrying us until we’re standing in the living room. Full windows line the wall, and lights glow beneath the city below. We are way too high for anyone to see us, but that does nothing to calm the chaos growing inside my head.
What the fuck am I doing? How is it even possible to feel this pulled toward someone who terrifies me?
My hands slide lower, my fingers brushing the solid weight tucked in the back of his jeans. The feeling scares me, cold reality slicing through the hazed state he’s put me in.
This isn’t about what I want. It never was.
We kiss like we’re running out of air, and fuck, it really feels like it. Like at any moment, I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen. We’re both breathing hard, getting lost in the moment together, like the room is closing in and one wrong move will tip everything past the point of return.
And that’s exactly why I stop.
I pull back enough to meet his eyes, my pulse hammering inside of me, but my grip steady where it matters most. I wrap my hand around the grip of his gun and pull it free before he can stop me. Dropping from his hold, I stumble a few steps back in hopes of creating enough distance before I raise the gun. Instinct guiding me more than I thought as I point it straight at Emris. My hand doesn’t shake, and that surprises me almost as much as it does him.
“What are you going to do with that, Brielle?” he asks. A dark smile curves at his mouth, like he’s daring me to prove him wrong.
I don’t answer because I have no clue how to explain the storm in my head right now. This might be my chance to walk out of this hotel, or at the very least get some answers about why they want Susie. If I can get the information I need, I can leave and find her. Warn her of the danger she’s in. I just need to get Emris talking, and this is the way to do it.
“Are you going to shoot me? Kill me? Come on, baby.” He takes a single step forward. “You get one shot, so you better not miss.” He gets closer until the barrel of the gun is pressed to his chest. I can’t take my eyes off him as his smile grows wider.
“Do it.” He’s playing with me, thinking I don’t have the balls to pull the trigger. I might not want to kill him, but right now I want to hurt him as much as I want to devour him.
The sound of the door unlocking snaps us out of whatever trance we were in. His eyes snap to where the door’s being pushed open before coming back to me.
“Better do it now. Because the second Carson walks through that door and sees you pointing a gun at me, I’m not sure how he’s going to react.” He reaches forward and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and that’s when I take a step back, I press my finger to the trigger and pull.
26
EMRIS
So much happens at once.
The gun goes off, followed by the door swinging open, and Carson walking in. Brielle stands there white as a ghost, and the glass behind me has a bullet lodged in it. I glance over my shoulder at the bullet hole, then back at her. Fuck, that was hot.
Thankfully, Archer was smart enough to get bulletproof glass on all the windows, but that didn’t stop the impact from splintering it. I didn’t think she had it in her to pull the trigger, but I guess I underestimated her once again.
“Next time I won’t miss,” she says, lowering the gun to her side but not setting it down as she gains some of her confidence back.
A small smile spreads across my face and goddamn, I don’t think I’ve ever been this desperate to have my hands on another human body before.
I open my mouth to talk, but Carson’s voice booms throughout the room.
“What the actual fuck is going on in here?” he asks, a bag of something in one hand and a tray of drinks in the other. Brielle hasn’t moved, but the gun is now dangling in her left hand. I look at Carson, and he glances between Brielle and me.
A wave of anger blows through me at seeing him, considering the reason we are fighting is because of the comment she made.
“Carson, if you don’t leave this room right now, I won’t be held accountable if I gut you like a damn fish.” Shock makes its way onto his face as he sets the bag and drinks down on the counter and holds his hands up in surrender.
“Brielle—” He tries to talk to her, but I take a step forward, halting his next words.
