Page 16 of Bound in Ashes

My mouth shaped to hurl words that I wasn’t his. I wasn’t anybody’s. But how could I tell such a blatant lie when proof of the truth thrummed low in my belly, making my pussy clench with need? He saw it, too. I knew he read every traitorous response my body gave him.

God, I hated that. So I ignored it.

Instead, I said, “Fuck you, Jack. I’m so fucking sorry for giving a shit. Should I have pushed you to the zombies to get a few extra steps?”

“It would have been smarter.” He stared, daring me to contradict him.

I clenched my fists at my side, fighting for control. “Jesus,” I muttered.

When I looked at him, he had something like a smile on his face. It wasn’t a happy smile. Or a kind one. It was knowing.

Predatory.

“What’s so funny, Jackson?” I said, my voice dripping with disdain.

“You are.”

I couldn’t stop myself. I pushed him, my hands smacking against his chest. I smiled when he moved back half a step.

“Oh, you’re pissed, huh?” He laughed for real this time, and I was on him, breasts pressed against his chest, not even an inch of space between us.

“I swear to God, Jack, I will⁠—”

“Why am I not surprised you still believe in God.”

I pushed him again.

His smile got bigger.

Then again.

He didn’t move an inch.

And again.

His hand shot out and caught my wrist midpush. He yanked me forward until I was pinned against his chest, my breath coming in harsh pants.

“You done?” he rasped,

I should have said yes.

Stepped back.

Kept some semblance of dignity.

Instead, I grabbed his shirt.

Pulled him down to me.

And then, I kissed him.

Hard.

Desperate.

Like I had something to prove.

To him.