Page 38 of Forever Relentless

“That’s not— I didn’t mean— God, you’re disgusting.”

Her hand slammed into my chest.

“I’m not writing it in blood you sick perverted fuck!”

I caught her wrist as she pulled away, then dragged her one step closer to me. Our height difference was amplified as I looked down into her shocked gaze, noting tiny gold flecks around her iris. Interesting.

“Sick. Perverted. Fuck.” I repeated it slowly, drawing out each word. I felt her tug at her wrist, and I tightened my grip. “I said binding. I said dramatic.” I leaned down, closing the space. “You’re the one who heard all that and went somewhere . . . filthy with it.” She opened her mouth to protest, and I pressed my index finger against her lips to silence her. “So, either you’re projecting your own perversion onto me, or you’ve been thinking . . .” I paused, and I could feel her body go still as I drew her just a little closer. “You’ve been thinking some perverted thoughts. About me?”

Briar held my gaze for a moment. Her head drew back slightly, losing contact with me, and she snapped at my finger with her teeth.

I had her turned, my arm just above her breasts, her back pressed to my chest, and one hand loosely around her throat.

“No biting,” I scolded her.

“Take your hands off me.”

“You tried to bite me. Like a dog. I’m protecting myself.” I turned her head with my hand around her throat. I lowered my head to talk into her ear. “You don’t say fuck about Jason. You don’t say fuck about any of us. You do, and you’re in the back of a cop car for fraud. Understand me?”

She instantly protested. “I wasn’t going to, I—”

My hand tightened slightly. “Do you understand me?”

She spoke through gritted teeth. “Yes.”

I let her go. “Good. Now I think we’re done here for today.” I stepped back. “Keep your mouth shut and your snooping less obvious. See you around.”

I walked back to the tunnel, her curses following me, and grinned. I didn’t look back.

That had been fun.

Chapter 9

Noah

The locker room was empty except for Dante, who had obviously waited for me.

We both looked across the room when the door slammed open, and I saw Mike Whittaker, the freshman that Hadley had been here to shadow, walk in. He looked like he had lost a fight with an eighteen-wheeler.

“What the fuck happened to you?” I asked him.

“Garrett Benoit.” He flexed his right hand. “I think he broke my hand.”

“Your hand?” Dante asked him, getting to his feet. “Looks like he broke more than your hand. Why aren’t you being seen to by a trainer or medical staff?” Dante demanded.

“Coach told me to wait here.” Mike tried to rub his nose, winced at the pin in his hand, and basically looked ready to pass out. He sat down. “I have to wait here because I was fighting with the dick.” He looked at his hand and tried to flex it. “I think Benoit won.” He looked up at us. “What do you think?”

Blood dripped down the left side of his face.

Dante and I exchanged a look. “Up,” I barked. I already knew if Benoit walked through that door, I was going to hurt him. “Let’s get you seen to.”

“Huh? But Coach—”

“We’re telling you to move,” Dante said, his hand on Mike’s arm, pulling him to his feet. “You want to come with me, or will I let Matthews carry you?”

Mike grinned and immediately winced. “I’m coming,” he said, swaying as he stood up.

“We need to tell them to check him for a concussion.” I helped steady Mike, and we walked him between us toward the medical wing.