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Hesitantly, the two opposite me comply, but the guy in my grasp doesn’t move.
“That applies to you too, arsehole,” I grunt, pressing the gun harder into his head.
“If you knew who she was, you wouldn’t be hesitating right now,” Daemon warns.
My eyes catch his and a million and one dirty promises fill his eyes right alongside the blood lust, which tells me he’d love to watch me shoot this motherfucker.
That thought alone is almost enough to make me do it.
Finally, he pulls his phone from his pocket and it crashes to the floor with the others.
“Let him go, beautiful.” I do as he says, but I don’t move the gun. “Go stand with your dumb-arse friends over there.”
Daemon steps up to me and shocks the living shit out of me when his hand grips the back of my neck harshly and he licks up the side of my face.
“You make me so fucking horny, Angel. You holding that gun. Fuck,” he grunts in my ear. “One day, I’m gonna watch you blow some motherfucker’s brains out before I make you scream right there and then.”
I manage to catch the whimper of desire that rumbles up my throat before it’s set free.
The three boys standing on the other side of the kitchen stare at us as if we can’t possibly be real, and my chest puffs out with the power we hold over the three of them.
“I want your IDs down there with your phones.”
This time, they don’t hesitate.
“Fuck it. Just throw everything down. Me and my girl will enjoy having a little bonfire with all your shit once you’ve fucked off.”
They do as they’re told a second before a suspicious-looking wet patch appears on the jeans of the guy I was holding.
“Looking like a big man right now, huh?” I mutter. “I bet all the girls just love your piss-scented cock.”
Daemon smothers a laugh at my words as he wipes down the gun he’d taken from my hand.
“Pass this around, make sure you all touch it good.”
Again, they do as they’re told and Daemon takes it back again, using the tea towel now it’s covered in their prints.
“Okay, so I’m gonna just go ahead and assume that you’re nothing but a few pussy, try-your-luck druggies who are shit scared of what will happen to your tight arses if we were to call the cops and let them have that,” Daemon says, gesturing to the small pile of evidence he’s had them collect for us. “And I’m also going to assume that you’re going to walk out of here and forget any of this ever happened.”
He reaches for me and tugs me into his body, wrapping his arms around my waist and breathing me in.
“I suggest you take him to E&A and say you all had an accident while you were high—and fucking stupid—and get him patched up before he bleeds to death. And all being well, we’ll never have anything to do with each other again. That good with you?”
They all nod. I only just manage to smother the smile that wants to spill across my face at how quickly they turned from dangerous wannabes to scared little pussies because of the two of us. Okay, because of Daemon, but I’ll happily take a little of that credit because I was the one with the gun after all.
“Good. Now fuck off before I’m forced to kill you all and dump your arses out in the ocean for the fish to feast on.”
They scramble so fast it’s pitiful really, and they even close the door behind them, which of course no longer actually shuts properly thanks to their bad attempt at breaking and entering.
“Now,” Daemon growls, gripping the back of my neck and forcing me forward through the carnage that is the kitchen.
“What are you—” My words are cut off when he bends me over, his other hand dragging my arse back exactly where he wants it.
“Hold the counter. Lock your elbows. This isn’t going to be gentle.”
Oh fuck.
Heat pools between my thighs at the filthy promises of what’s to come.
