Page 5 of Blood We Steal

I moved quick, my hand locking around her throat before she could blink. She inhaled softly, the sound a mix of shock and fear.

My emotions were on the same roller coaster.

I’d dreamed of this.

The moment when Simone would face her reckoning, when I would get the vengeance I deserved. My cock jerked at the anticipation of her end.

But I didn’t squeeze.

Just held her there, the soft warmth of her skin an insult against my palm, the faint scent of cocoa butter and Simone tickling my nostrils. She bought it in bulk for the discount. It pissed me off that I knew that about her.

Just like I knew that she clipped fucking coupons. Knew that she always ordered water at restaurants. Knew she hummed under her breath when she thought she was alone. I knew each of these useless, stupid things about her and hated every scrap even as I filed it away.

Knew that this timid, cautious, safe fucking woman had played me.

My grip tightened and I reveled in the feeling of her tremble as I stared at her. She saw my excitement at her fear, and I didn’t have to wait long for her response. I watched her pull herself together, moving from terror and whatever other emotion she felt to absolutely nothing. She put up that mousy facade and pretended she wasn’t here, that my hand wasn’t around her throat.

That her life wasn’t mine if I chose to take it.

It was disrespectful enough that she thought going cold would protect her, but that wasn’t the worst of it.

No the worst was she didn’t beg.

She just watched me, not defiant, not beseeching, just there, waiting, telling me without telling me that the power was in my hands.

And again threatening to undo me.

Because I wanted to destroy her.

I wanted to fuck her.

I wanted…

Not so strange to want, but that want made my failure that much more acute. That was what she did to me.

I stared at her for a long moment, watching, waiting for some reaction. Got none.

I loosened my grip ever so slightly and saw a moment’s relief, but a brief moment, one that ended when I grabbed her with both hands this time, held her soft cheeks against my palms, felt the breath leave her chest, saw her struggle to inhale, watched the reality that her life was in my hands assert itself yet again.

Watched her calculate what she could do about it.

Saw the moment she realized: nothing.

I leaned closer, so close that my lips grazed her ear. She trembled, and I tightened my grip ever so slightly. Then tightened it more.

Held her as I weighed my choices, the gallop of her pulse under my hand promising me vengeance, instant and final.

I let her go, and she let out a dainty cough, her eyes wide for a split second before she recovered and then looked at me like nothing had happened at all.

That vengeance, as delicious as it would be, would cost me the explanation Simone owed me, just like she owed me her life.

I would have both, but first…

“Simone, duck.”

THREE

Simone