Page 33 of Lust and Honor

He lunges at me again, and before I can get to my feet, he grabs my shirt’s collar and yanks me up. The fabric tears under his grip, exposing my bra. My horrified gaze drops to my chest, and in a surge of rage, I slap his face hard. My hand stings from the impact, but it only seems to fire him up more—his lips curling while his eyes spark with wild, manic joy.

I ball my fist and swing at him, but before it connects, he grabs my throat, hoists me up, and pins me down on the platform. I try to repeat my earlier move, raising my leg, but he’s ready this time, trapping me under the heavy weight of his body.

He crosses my arms over my chest, squeezing my wrists so hard I gasp in pain. I’m completely pinned, defenseless. But my mouth keeps running anyway. I spit straight at his face. “Do whatever you want, but I’ll get out of here eventually. This time, I’m going somewhere none of you bastards can touch me or my daughter.”

Unfortunately, my spit lands right on his lips. His violence and blows couldn’t break me, but what he does next, to my shock, saps the fight right out of me. He runs his tongue over his lips, swallowing my spit with a twisted pleasure.

Leaning down, his hot breath grazes my skin, and he murmurs seductively in my ear, “You think I’ll let you go and hand me back some trashy stripper in a few years?”

His lips brush my cheek as he slowly shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “No, no, no, Ava. I’m not letting that happen.”

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. The heat of his lips makes my skin crawl in the worst way. But I’m still mad as hell. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He smirks. “We’ll get to that. First, let’s clear up this rape nonsense.”

But it already is. I know there was no rape. I only said it to get under his skin. His heavy weight and some strange magnetic pull make it hard to breathe.

I squirm under his iron grip and grumble, “I can’t breathe. Let me go.”

He pulls my arms above my head, locking both wrists to the platform more gently this time. The pressure of his legs on my lower body eases up, but his voice turns deadly. “If you ever try to punch or kick my balls again, I’ll beat your ass raw. That’s a hard line for me, got it?”

How does he do it? How does he go from seductive to murderous that fast?

I swallow hard and just nod. The corner of his mouth curls up, and that seductive edge creeps back into his voice. “Now tell me, Ava Wilson, why’d you wait four years to come find me?”

I bite the corner of my lip and shoot back, “Is that why you gave me your card? To add another whore to your collection?”

He raises a brow, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I asked first.”

I look away and answer quietly, “I thought I owed you a thank-you. You saved my life.”

He releases my wrists and cups my chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning my face to force me to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes my chin softly. “Then why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

My voice comes out sharp without meaning to. “Did you even give me a chance?”

He leans closer. “Don’t kid yourself, Ava. You’re braver than that. You wanted me too.”

The scent of his cologne, mixed with sweat and the clean male scent of his skin, floods my senses, and my pulse goes wild. His hand slides down from my chin, grazing past my bra, stopping just below the curve of my breast. His voice is low, seductive. “Your heart’s racing, just like that night. Your body’s burning up, your skin’s prickling, and your breathing’s turning shallow. Know what that means?”

I take a deep breath, steeling my voice. “Yeah, you’re right. I wanted you. Why wouldn’t I? You were the guy who saved me like some damn hero. In my head, you were a handsome prince charming who turned out to be rich, too. If I’d known who you really were…”

He cuts me off. “What? What would you have done?” His hand slips lower, stroking my core through my pants. My heart leaps to my throat, and a soft moan escapes my parted lips. I look away in shame, but he presses harder, voice rough. “If you’d known who I was, you wouldn’t have gotten wet for me?”

I try to twist away, to move my center from his hand, but he holds me firmly and goes on, “Your pussy wouldn’t have clenched the way it is right now?”

I squeeze my eyes shut in despair, because that’s exactly what’s happening now. Damn it, why does my body keep betraying me like this?

He buries his face in my neck. “You wouldn’t have given yourself to me?”

I claw at his shoulder and push weakly. “Please, don’t.”

It’s like shoving a brick wall, he doesn’t budge an inch. He lifts his head from my neck and traps my chin again. “You went there to give your virginity to the man of your dreams, didn’t you?”

My stupid tears well up, answering his question. He lets out a sharp breath, closes his eyes, and presses his forehead to mine, whispering, “What did you do?”

His lips hover so close to mine, and despite everything I know about him, I’m aching to close the gap, to let him take me again like he did that unforgettable night.

“Have you been with anyone else since me?”