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Before I can begin to form the threats rising up my throat, her lips are crashing into mine, not only silencing my dark promises, but completely ripping them to pieces.
Her mouth moves over mine savagely, and I’m lost to the way she commands me. I could flip her so effortlessly, but I fucking love bowing to the dark little goddess.
Grabbing my hands, she forces them behind the chair, clamping them together.
A sharp pain pierces my bottom lip, her teeth sinking into the tender flesh and drawing blood. Before I can snap back, she pulls away and looks over my face with pride.
It’s only then I notice the rope is tightly secured around my wrists. If I wasn’t seconds away from ripping her throat out and fucking her blind, I’d be impressed.
“Black eye and a bloody lip. I think that’s enough kicking your ass for now.” She firmly slaps my cheek in a good job, sport type of way before lifting off of me and settling in the chair beside me.
All I can do is stare at her and fantasize about the ways I’m going to punish her for that later. But just as well, my cock is harder than granite because that was probably one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced in my life. Every time I think I’ve never been harder, she goes and proves me wrong.
Sensing my insidious thoughts, she rolls her shoulders, feigning boredom.
Addie has always been a runner—especially from the truth.
“If you’re done with your foreplay, let’s finish this, yeah?” Michael says, standing next to a red-faced Jeff with his arms crossed and a bored look on his face as well. The punk is also a liar and probably adjusted himself while I was distracted.
Gary is still groaning on the floor, and Jeff shifts uncomfortably next to h
im, eyes bouncing everywhere else, avoiding my stare.
Taking a deep breath, I try to focus back on the situation. “Doesn’t look like we hit the femoral arteries, so he’s going to have a very slow death. We’ll let him suffer there in the corner for now.”
Michael nods and grabs Jeff by the arm and hauls him in front of us.
“Tie me up, Baron,” Addie says to my mercenary, who’s been leaning against the wall to my right. She’s smirking because she knows damn well how suggestive that sounded.
“Are you trying to get me killed?” Baron asks, his deep baritone voice pitching higher.
Addie rolls her eyes. “I won’t let him kill you.”
She shouldn’t be so sure about that. But I keep my mouth shut and my stare sharp when he gives in, knowing that him or Michael are the only options to tie her up, considering she already bound my hands.
Baron makes quick work of the rope, stepping away before I can find a reason to cut his hands off. Who am I kidding? I don’t need a reason.
Michael turns to Jeff. “Give me your phone,” he demands, then rudely snatches the device from the old man’s hand the second he pulls it from his pocket.
“All right, kids, look like your asses just got kicked by two old men that throw their backs out just from lifting their small dicks to piss.”
He could’ve just said, say cheese and had the same outcome.
I glare at him, and Addie turns her head away, squeezing her eyes shut like she’s too ashamed to have her picture taken.
“Make it a little shaky with a shitty angle, and voila, a typical picture taken by a degenerate,” Michael says, smiling in victory after he snaps the photo. Then he turns the phone to Jeff.
“What would you typically say if you took a picture like that?”
Jeff glances at the image. “That we wasted money on all the other stupid fucks and should’ve done it ourselves from the start,” he spits. Once he realizes that he helped Michael’s message appear authentic by literally taking the words out of his mouth, his eyes darken with rage.
Michael’s fingers fly over the keyboard, mouthing the words aloud as he types them just to piss Jeff off. Then he pauses and looks to the old man with a shit-eating grin.
“Hey, how do you spell ‘stupid’?”
A vein pulses on Jeff’s forehead, giving Michael an, are you fucking kidding me? look. Michael just stares, intent on making him spell the word. Snarling, he spits each letter through gritted teeth.
When finished typing, Michael slaps him on the back of the shoulder roughly and says, “Thanks, man. Would be lost without you.”
