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Something cold and dark and all too familiar.
I told myself I was relieved at the change. I almost believed it.
“Boyfriend?” he uttered softly, his voice rumbling and low, a distant clap of thunder, the way it got when he was on the edge of losing his temper.
Oh yes, he had a famous temper like me, though his was harder to provoke.
My own temper was quick to ignite and could be indiscriminately destructive but his was just as terrible of a thing to behold when things went south.
A small but powerful thrill moved through me.
Our eyes were still locked as I called back to Demi, “I’ll be out in just a second, hun.”
“Boyfriend?” he repeated quietly, punching it out in a dangerous clip, the thunder closer to the surface now, eyes going black as he began in earnest to lose the battle with the storm inside of himself.
I firmed my jaw and squared off against him. It was almost easy for me to deal with him angry. Familiar, safe ground. Enjoyable, even. A much needed distraction. “You should go, Dante.”
“Does he know I fucked you last night?” He did not say this quietly. He said it loud enough to be heard, and not just by me.
I felt my nipples tighten, a slow, familiar throb starting up between my thighs.
I was a perverse creature and his jealous rages had always turned me on.
My mouth twisted in something not quite a smile.
Predictably, it set him off. “Does your boyfriend know I rode you bareback last night?” He said this even less quietly, voice pitched to be heard across the large apartment.
It was an effort to keep from showing any reaction to his increasing hostility. “Your jealousy is showing,” I pointed out evenly.
He shook his head, lip curling as he spoke, “It wasn’t a rhetorical question. Does he know what happened between us last night?”
“Does it matter?”
A shudder moved through his big, agitated body.
I tried not to shudder at the sight of it. I was in a state.
“I can’t believe you,” he gritted out.
“Can’t you?” I countered, voice steady, pulse not so much.
He stood abruptly. “I’m leaving. As I said before, I’ll email you the details of your travel arrangements.”
He hadn’t had to do that, arrange it all for me, but I couldn’t bring myself to thank him. “When do I leave?”
“The day after tomorrow. Early.”
“Fine.”
His lip curled. “Fine,” he clipped back and strode from the room.
CHAPTER
TWELVE
“When I’m good, I’m very good. But when I’m bad I’m better.”
~Mae West
