“Watching you stick your tongue down a stripper’s throat?” I mumbled, sounding as disinterested as I could muster. The pang slicing through my heart was easier to ignore compared to the initial sting.
“I didn’t stick my tongue in her mouth.” Why did he sound so defensive—almost angry?
“Sorry, I meant watching you takehertongue in your mouth.” I chuckled, burying the pressure in my chest that kept expanding. Shadows crowded my mind, but I turned my back on them.
“I don’t belong to you,” he snapped it so violently and harshly that the words sliced through me physically. Somehow, his accent made it sound harsher.
I whipped my head around to glare at him. His lips were pressed into a thin line.
“I know,” I gritted out, getting to my feet since he wasn’t going to just let me be. “And I don’twantyou.” The lie fell from my mouth with ease.
Sinclair’s lip curled up.
“I just wanted a damn cigarette,” I hissed, the lie spilling out with ease.
That seemed to irritate him even more.
“And you thought leaving this room was smart?”
“No one recognized me.” I shrugged. I refused to admit that I’d taken off after seeing all those women surrounding them. That the jealousy had spurred me into a rash reaction. I lifted my chin, keeping hold of his brown, angry glare.
“Another stupid decision.”
“The first was coming to your pack for help,” I spat, my shoulders drawing up.
He leaned close, his nose flaring with hard breaths.
He curled his lip, stepping close until our bodies were inches apart. I rested my palm on his heaving chest to keep him ata distance, but it was a stupid move. His heat radiated to my palms.
“What? You’re going to pin me to the wall and fuck me again?” I mocked, part of me hoping he would. I wanted to have their bodies as much as I could before I never saw them again.
He was so still, it would have frightened me if I didn’t give a shit anymore.
The last thing I should be doing was taunting the men who could easily turn me over to the police, but the bitterness wouldn’t let me. “Is that all you see in women? A body to fuck?”
His shock morphed into careful stiffness. Sinclair circled me, reminiscent of a shark hunting its prey.
Now he was all cruelty. “Bottom heavy, sexy, plump lips to shove my cock past?” he groaned exaggeratedly. “How could I not want to fuck you?”
I ignored the stabs of discomfort in my stomach and lifted my chin, full of bravado.
I slid my finger over his chest. “So you’ve had enough now that you’ve had me?” The sarcasm fell flat, making me sound sad. I didn’t recognize the pain-riddled words that left my mouth.
Sinclair sucked in a breath and held my gaze. I couldn’t read them—I never could, and it was frustrating.
“No,” he whispered, the word sounding dragged out of him. I was so still it hurt. “I don’t think I can have enough?—”
If Elias hadn’t walked in, I would have been under Sinclair already. Air flooded back into the room, snapping me out of his thrall. I stepped back as Elias charged toward me.
“Kyan mentioned what you knew about Alice. Why was she also a target for Bourne Pack?”
Alice had also been involved in Bourne Pack’s circles. “They must have found out we were talking about them. That’s why they got me fired?—”
“Fired?” Elias repeated, his eyes narrowed.
“Soon after you had your article pulled,” I explained, meeting his intensity head-on. His mouth opened and closed. For a while, I’d believed Greymont Pack was the reason until Lyndsy’s death.
“I didn’t . . . know.” His tone wilted, and he cleared his throat. “Get some rest.” With that, he turned and left, Sinclair quietly trailing after him.
