Page 45 of Ricochet

I spun around and found my clothes in a heap on the floor.

“Thanks. But I’m not wearing your clothes.” With a stubborn tilt of her chin, she perched on the edge of the bed, arms crossed.

“You’d prefer to walk around in a torn dress and no panties, that it?”

Her brows lifted. “Yeah. I would.”

Damn her, and damn my traitorous dick for lurching at that. “Well, too bad. I’m not asking you to wear the clothes. I’m telling you.”

“And I’m telling you that I refuse to wear your clothes. I’m not letting you stake some claim on me.”

I exhaled a breath, shaking my head. “You don’t want to test me right now, Aubree.”

From behind, Blue perked up and whined.

“Go fuck yourself, Nick.”

I swiped at my nose, brushing off the urge to paddle her ass for such insolence. “I forgot. If it’s not fancy and bought with innocent human lives, it’s not good enough for you, right?” It wasn’t my style to say something totally stupid, off the top of my head, but shit happened.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She pushed up and crossed her arms tighter. “I haven’t bought anything with human lives! And if all of this is about my husband, I’ve no idea how he wronged you, but I had nothing to do—”

Lurching forward, I wrapped my fingers around her throat and slammed her against the wall. My teeth ground so hard they could’ve cracked, while her pulse hammered beneath my palm. A vision of Danielle popped into my head, and I snapped.

Alec had suspected that Michael received a cut of the trafficking, and may have even had a more direct role, but proving it seemed to be the crux of his suspicions, and he lacked the concrete evidence to expose him. I couldn’t help but imagine Aubree and Michael admiring their fine clothes, while innocent girls like Danielle paid the price— and Aubree’s haughty fucking attitude only grated on my spine.

Like I’d caught some kind of hellcat by the tail, she thrashed and pushed, scratching, fighting against me. Her body tensed, and I blocked the anticipated kick to my nuts with a lifted leg.

Wild. Feral.

With my right hand, I pinned her flailing fist, then released her throat and seized the other. She stilled, flat against the wall, with my body pressed into hers.

“You had everything to do with it.” I pushed harder, my muscles steeled. “He didn’t just wrong me, he annihilated me. And there you were, stroking his cock, smiling beside him all the while.”

“All you saw was a smile, then. You should’ve looked deeper. So what? I’m your revenge? Your ticket to hurting him?” She sneered. “Guess what? He doesn’t give a shit about me. He never did. So, go ahead, Nick. Kill me.” She lifted her head away from the wall, only inches from my face. “Snap my fucking throat, if that’s what you plan to do. You’d be doing him and me a favor.”

Her body pulsed with tension, the tremble beating against me, through me, inside of me. Anger. Hate.

So much hate.

With one quick twist of my hands, I could’ve snapped her neck, been done with the whole plan and exited my miserable fucking existence on the wings of a bullet to my skull.

Instead, I slammed my lips against hers. Loving the struggle of her body trying to push me away. Hating the fact that her lips tasted like sweet salvation, beckoning me to whatever web of deception she’d been weaving since I’d taken her. Her delicious smell pervaded my senses—water on the flames burning inside of me, steaming up my mind.

Three years.

The last time I’d devoured a woman’s lips was three years ago, and that had been out of love. Kissing Aubree was something else entirely. Not gentle or tender. I kissed her violently, with all the fury locked inside of me, our frantic breaths clashing with one another.

Her moan vibrated inside my skull, as her hands clenched to fists, trying to break free from my grasp.

She opened her mouth wider, dragged my lip between her teeth, and bit me.

Aggression surged through my body and rattled the cage of something dark inside of me.

I wanted more. More pain. More rage. I wanted to tear into her while cursing her name. Purge myself of the hate until it was spent.

I broke the kiss, breaths heaving, as I glared down at her. “What do you know about Brightmoor?” I rasped.

“I don’t know anything about Brightmoor,” she gritted out.