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“Shut it,” he orders and walks me backward until I’m pressed against the brick.
“I will not shut it. Now let me go, Scythe. I mean it. I’m done with this.”
“I’m not about to let you go,” he seethes, getting in my face. One hand grips my waist firmly, the other dives into my hair, tangling in the strands. “We’re gonna get this straight here and now.”
“There’s nothing to get straig—”
“I said shut it,” he growls, interrupting me. “You have your memories back. Great. We’ll get to that in a minute. But first, I’m gonna get something straight with you. What you heard that day on the phone it was two bitches, one of them being Slick. They were in my room when I opened the door and was talking to you.”
Like that could be possible. In the time I’ve stayed in that room, he’s kept it locked tight. Coming and going from the room, the door is always locked. The only way in is if he unlocks it or I do, and that’s only because I have a key myself.
I roll my eyes and glare at him. “I don’t believe you.”
“I knew you wouldn’t, but it’s the damned truth, Josephine.” Growling, he steps deeper into my space, bringing us flush against each other. “You want to act like fuckin’ brat and get pissy, I’ll damn well treat you like one.”
I open my mouth to snap at him, but he claims my mouth in one scorching kiss that leaves my toes curling. This one isn’t like the others I’ve shared with him. No, this one is totally different. Just as quickly as it begins, he ends it, breaking his mouth from mine. He steps back, takes my hand, and all but drags me into the clubhouse through the back doors and into his room.
Scythe releases me and seals us into the room. “Strip,” he orders and looks away from me, going to the stereo system he has on the dresser and turns music on. It’s not the usual music that I’ve heard them playing, but something more seductive . . . erotic . . . sensual.
But I ignore the music and his order. I’m not about to strip and give him what he wants. Not when he was outside with another woman. That very woman who had her hands on him. Who was telling him she wanted him to fuck her. That I didn’t need to know what they were doing.
Total bullshit.
Does he think I’m an idiot? I’m not being a brat. I’m pissed, and I feel like a complete fool for letting him trick me into thinking I was the only one he wanted and needed.
Scythe turns back to face me, and his gaze narrows at the sight of me fully dressed. “You want me to tear those clothes off you? Because that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t fucking take them off.”
“You’re not gonna touch me, Scythe.” I refuse to give in. “I’m leaving, and you’re not going to stop me.”
I start for the door, but when I get there, I find it’s not just locked. No, he’s put a padded lock on it, making it impossible to get out. How had I never realized he had that on the door?
“You’re not going anywhere,” Scythe remarks from behind me, his breath at my ear. How does he do that? Sneak up behind me without me hearing him. “We’re working this shit out between us, and you’re gonna learn a lesson for acting like a brat with me.” Those hands of his, the ones I love having on my body, rub up and down my arms, sending chills along my spine.
I don’t turn to look at him, and I don’t bother saying a word. I don’t think I could at this point. Whenever Scythe touches me, my mind turns to a puddle of goo.
“Now, you’re going to strip out of your clothes, get in the middle of the bed, ass in the air, and face the headboard,” he commands, running his nose along the shell of my ear.
“And if I don’t?” I manage to say without sounding too breathy.
“Then I’ll rip the clothes from you and put you the way I want you on the bed.”
Oh my God.
He’s going to drive me insane with that husky voice of his.
“I told you, you weren’t going to touch me.”
“Don’t fool yourself, Josephine. Your body wants me to touch it. But just so you know, I don’t have any intention of touching your body. Not until you’re begging for me to. Now do what I told you.”
Scythe moves away, and I finally turn to face him, but he’s got his back to me as he moves to his desk and takes a seat.
Swallowing past the thickness in my throat, I toe my shoes off and timidly strip out of my clothes leaving them in a pile on the floor. Further, I move to the bed and do as he says, getting on my hands and knees and facing the headboard.
I don’t know how much time passes without Scythe saying or doing anything. I hear some typing for a bit. After a while, I start to get antsy, not knowing what he’s about to do. Suddenly, I feel something tickle the backs of my legs, up the curve of my rear, along my spine, and then it’s brought to cover my eyes.
“I’m taking your sight as part of the punishment for the way you spoke to me outside and acting like a brat,” Scythe announces, securing the fabric in place.
My lips part, and I start breathing heavily, unsure of what I should be feeling right now.
