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The dazzle. Anything.
He’s not a bad kisser.
There’s just no spark. No rush of pleasure. Nothing makes my heart skip a beat or my stomach twist into a knot. Ugh. He’s not Drew. My frustration and annoyance mounts, and I spin to press him hard against the opposite side of the L-shaped counter. His hand trails lower and lower until it reaches my ass.
Fine. It's all fine.
Except it's not. All I can see in my mind is Drew.
His dark green eyes, perfectly sculpted abs, and thick muscular thighs.
Goddammit. He’s probably on his way over to murder us both right now. Good. I hope this hurts his heart as much as seeing him with that other girl hurt mine.
A second passes and then another, and I continue kissing the mystery man. I blink my eyes open and peer over his shoulder. I nearly choke on my tongue when I spot Drew standing there, watching us. His body is as still as a statue, and tendrils of ice seep from his eyes.
And fuck, he’s staring right into my soul while I kiss another man.
The eye contact is enough to give me that jolt I was missing, the one I was chasing so badly when I let this man grope me. Suddenly, the kiss feels hotter and deeper, and my body awakens with new life. The man kissing me notices the difference as well since his grip on my ass tightens, his other hand tugging me closer.
Shit. His erection grows hard against my belly, and it’s like a bucket of cold water dousing the flames of desire. I watch as Drew crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed to slits, his jaw tight. Fuck. He's going to explode if I keep this up.
Yet I can't stop it. Not when I feel like it's the first time I've been able to do anything to get back at him, to cause him even an ounce of the pain he's dished out to me.
Fuck it. I’m going to hell anyway, might as well make it worth it. I bite the man's lip and pull away, stretching his skin, all while he releases a loud groan of pleasure.
Who knew victory could taste this good?
11
DREW
Anger isn’t a big enough word to describe how I feel watching my woman kiss another man. It’s more like murderous fucking rage. The kind that makes me want to walk across the room, rip the fucker’s organs out of his body, and paint her skin with his blood. She’s doing her best to prove a point to me, but she has no fucking clue how close to the edge I am.
Oh, you have no idea what type of game you’re playing, Flower.
Even from a distance, I can see the flicker of lust and excitement glittering in her eyes. Bel is smart, and she knows exactly what she’s doing, antagonizing a different kind of beast. And watching her now, I can only assume that’s what she wants. She wants me to lose control, to feel the same pain she felt watching me with Spencer.
There’s only one fatal flaw in her plan. My beautiful, angry Flower doesn’t realize that no matter what she does, I’ll never leave her. She could cheat, she could sleep with another man, and while I’d burn down the world and kill the fucker with my bare hands while making her watch me do it as punishment, I wouldn’t ever let her go.
While I’m irritated this asshole has his hands on her, jealousy isn’t really fitting since she is mine and will always be mine. It’s obvious she doesn’t want him, at least to everyone but him. Hell, she didn't even touch him until she spotted me across the room, which might be the only reason I’m letting this charade continue. I kinda want to see how far she’s willing to take it.
Clearly, Bel wants a game, and if anyone is willing to play, it’s me. I just don’t think she realizes who she’s playing against. I don’t play fair. I play to win, and I always fucking win.
My fists curl of their own accord as the desire to smash the guy in the face amplifies when he squeezes her ass cheeks in his hands.
She’s playing with fire, and it’s about to burn her.
"Wallflower," I growl even though she can't hear me.
Her sparkling green eyes remain locked on mine. The fucker fondling her doesn’t even realize the danger he’s in. That’s too bad, really because this charade is about to end. Rolling my shoulders, I stalk across the room, partygoers scurry out of my way, and when I reach the fucker, I grip him by the back of the neck, my fingers digging into his skin.
Pulling him backward, I peer down at him, recognizing him immediately as one of our new inductees. Mmm, this just got a lot more interesting. He flinches and then squeezes his eyes closed like a pussy when I whirl him around to face me.
Bel doesn’t move. Instead, she stares at me, her chin held high, a look of defiance plastered on her face. "Drew."
"Maybel," I grit her name out through my teeth and then dismiss her, focusing all my attention back on the guy I’m holding hostage. I lean forward, getting right in his face. His panicked gaze darts between us. Poor guy has no idea the shitstorm he got himself into.
"She… she… she grabbed me before I could see who she was… Drew. I promise. I didn't mean to kiss her. If I knew…"
