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Jesus. It was like he’d been there in the coffee shop and overheard the entire thing. “I’ll relay the message.”
“Good.” He walked back to the bar, grabbed his drink, and took a seat on the couch. “What else did he say?”
Shit, like I’d ever tell.“Said that you were dangerous and I should be careful.”
A half smile moved on to his hard face. “Only half of that sentence is true.” He grabbed the glass and took another drink before he licked his lips. “He should take his own advice if he doesn’t want to eat my gun.”
I moved to the other couch, keeping my distance from his silent hostility. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”
The second his eyes shifted to my face, I knew I’d said the wrong thing.
“Overreacting.” He said the word like it was a brand-new addition to his vocabulary. He was testing the word on his tongue, like no one else had ever been stupid enough to describe him that way. “There’s a side of me that you’ve never seen, sweetheart. A side that does overreact. Trust me, I’m not overreacting now.” His fingers curled into a fist and rested against his cheek while his ankle rested on the opposite knee. “I don’t appreciate a man sniffing around a woman who clearly belongs to me, especially when he’s a pussy-ass bitch who already failed you. He gets a warning this time, but next time, his lips will be sealed around the barrel of my gun like it’s a cock in his mouth.”
I felt the tremble down my spine, felt the fear that everyone else felt when they were around him. The danger that Victor warned me about…it was looking me in the face. “I never said Victor came on to me—”
“You didn’t need to. I’m a lot smarter than you realize, Laura.”
“And even if he did, what does it matter—”
“Itmattersbecause you’re mine.” He still didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t throw his arms down in a rage. But his control over his emotions was more terrifying than the combustion of those emotions. He could convey so much with so little. Could scream at the top of his lungs with just a whisper. “And he knows that. He knew it when you told him I was your hot-as-fuck boyfriend. Knew it when I stabbed Lucas. Knew it when you told him I killed those motherfuckers. He knows what happens when you disrespect men like me, but he seems to have forgotten.”
“Wait…how did you know I told him that?”
“Because I knew you would. He needed to know I did what he should have done seven years ago. And you wanted him to know that too.” He reached for his glass and finished the contents. Then unexpectedly, he threw the glass at the wall, and it shattered into pieces. “Make sure he knows you’re the only reason he’s alive right now.”
* * *
Somehow, like always, we ended up in bed.
He pinned my face to the mattress with my ass in the air, the arch in my back so prominent it hurt a little, and pounded into me like I was a woman he’d spotted across the bar and took home for the night.
I took that big dick over and over, panting into the sheets balled near my face, knowing he was conquering my land and claiming it as his all over again. His fingers fisted my hair as he kept me in place, his other hand gripping my hip as he pushed harder and harder, driving me into an orgasm and then the next…over and over.
When he was finally finished, he let me go.
He lay back on the pillow, one arm tucked under his head, his body shiny with sweat.
I straightened my back and felt the discomfort subside before I lay flat on my stomach, catching my breath even though he was the one who’d done all the work. We lay there in silence, and I was so satisfied and comfortable I could fall asleep, even though it was the middle of the day.
“What happened with your father?”
I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair. “You know, he made some threats… I made some of my own.”
He sat up against the headboard and looked at me.
“Basically said I was a hypocrite for being with someone like you.”
He turned his stare straight ahead and looked outside.
“But I told him you were nothing alike. He’s never protected me, but you do.”
His eyes were back on me, impossible to read.
“He and I…we’re never going to get along.”
“There’s no reason you have to.”
“Really?” I asked. “Even though he’s my father?”
