Page 97 of Trapped Truth

“You did as you were told!”

“And he still shot me for it. On some level, Gunnar blames me too. Regardless of where his current allegiances lie.”

Wriggling free from a kind touch I don’t deserve, I turn and kick one of the metal shelves. Several boxes of case files rattle then fall, bursting where they hit the floor. Paperwork scatters in all directions.

“Fuck! I did this!”

“Axel, calm down. Let’s talk about it.”

“It’s no wonder he fucking hates me.” Venom coats every syllable I hurl. “I would too.”

“You didn’t know any better!” Ember tries to march after me.

“What good is that excuse now?”

“Enough!” She explodes in rising aggravation. “I’m not going to let you blame yourself for this. Gunnar might’ve suffered, but that doesn’t make you responsible.”

Whirling on the spot brings her furious glare within view. Yep, she’s mad at me now. Excellent. I might as well run up and down the corridor to see who else I can piss off around here.

“Would you blame me for what happened to Gracie or any of the other victims?” Ember throws up her hands.

“Hell no!”

“But you’re willing to blame yourself for this. You weren’t even there, Axel!”

“It’s different.” I glare at her.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. I watched what Gael and men like him did to their assets for years without lifting a fucking finger. But do you see me storming around here, blowing up?”

“That isn’t fair.”

“No, but neither is what you’re doing to yourself!”

I’m too absorbed by the fire ants tearing chunks out of my skin to think about what I’m doing. Seizing hold of Ember to slam her up against a shelf wrestles the argument back under my control. She can’t keep spewing all this forgiveness shit with my tongue in her mouth.

Trapped between my body and the metal unit, Ember has no choice but to take the abrupt collision. Her lips slide open, letting me barrel past every last boundary to shut her the hell up. I’m done listening to why none of this is my fault.

She captures a handful of my hair and yanks, causing me to grunt. The little minx. If she wants to play rough, I’m more than wound up enough. I bite into her lip then tug, sucking the pillowy swell between my teeth.

Before I can slip my tongue between her lips, her foot stamps down on mine. Gasping, the kiss breaks as I stumble back, eviscerated under the sheer force of her glower.

“You’re an asshole.” She stabs me in the chest with a finger.

There’s no time to snap back before her tight curves smash into me. I’m snared by a rough, aggressive kiss that communicates all our overflowing frustration. Weeks of pain, upheaval and setbacks. Disappointments and new iterations of terror.

It’s strangling us both.

Grabbing hold of her waistband, I shove my hand past stretchy Lycra and panties to attack her heat. She’s molten between the legs. Anger turns her on like nothing else. I remember the first time I took her to my office and we fought. Dammit, she looked like an avenging demon intent on skinning me alive.

I’m rough and careless while shoving a finger deep into her cunt. She moans into my mouth, but I’m unclear if it’s from shock or pleasure. The whistling pressure cooker ticking towards a meltdown inside me doesn’t care.

Ember responds by assaulting my belt buckle. At least she’s feeling just as impatient. I let her tug the metal teeth free and roll my ripped jeans down while snaking into her core, ensuring she’s prepared for a thorough railing.

“Are you healed enough for this?” Her lips move over mine.

Rearing back, I pepper kisses along her jawline. “Bend over, and I’ll show you how ready I am.”

“You sound confident.”