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He laughs, a sharp, biting sound that cuts the tense air around us. “Like you have a choice in any of this.”
“I just told you I only agreed to the marriage with Tyson to protect my family. Why would I walk away from that burden and leave my family exposed to God only knows what so I can marry you, some… some has-been football god turned mafia thug?” My nostrils flare.
“Revenge can be a very dirty game. And I’m betting that the Van Dynes know just how valuable you are to their plans to ice out my family. They won’t let you go without a fight. They need you because you’re the link to your father’s empire. So when they come for you, we crush them.”
“Great, so I get caught in the middle and become a casualty of your war?”
“It’s how shit in our world works. The marriage lets us keep what’s ours and then take what’s yours.”
Zak runs a hand through his dark hair, his ripped biceps tensing through the thin fabric of his shirt. Why is it that my focus is on his muscles, and not what I stand to lose if he executes on this insane plan to make me his wife?
“Think of it like this. You can get your life back. Be the doctor you always wanted to be. Make your own rules. Be the bad girl I know you are. The one you really wanna be.”
A chill slips down my spine.
And for better or worse, I only want to be bad with you…
Argh! Such bad timing. I press my hand to my forehead. “None of this makes sense. So you’re going to marry me or use me as bait?”
“Both. And when I’m done dangling you in front of that bunch of hungry vipers, I’m gonna use you for my own purposes.”
Heat pools in my belly at the innuendo. I slam my knees together to prevent that heat from leaking out of me. I refuse to let it out. Fuck him for turning me into his captive… his very willing and horny captive, not that he needs to know any of that. X-rated visions from my dream last night about Zak blast my mind like splattered paintballs—vivid with color and clarity, drenched with yearning.
He drags his hand down the front of my chest. “You’ll be the obedient wife who does what I want, when I want, and how I want it. And in exchange, you get to live.”
“Oh, so if I turn down your supersweet and touching proposal, you’ll just kill me?”
A malicious smirk lifts his lips, and the urge to devour them clutches me hard. I want them to taste every inch of my flushed skin, to tease me, and to taunt me like only he can.
Like only he ever did…
“I’ve killed for way less.”
“Well, I can definitely check off all the boxes on my Prince Charming checklist now.” Sarcasm spews from my mouth, my mind very aware that his hand is still pressed against me. Dammit, I won’t let him do this to me again.
“You’re a deceitful bastard. You violated my trust and made me betray my family once. I won’t let you do it again.”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, a gasp escapes my lips when he slides his hand over my breast. He takes my nipple between his fingers, never once moving his eyes away from me.
He flicks my taut bud hard, making it peak in his grasp. My back arches. I puff out my chest, hunger swirling in my belly at his demanding touch. “I remember how much you liked that.” His low, growly voice rumbles through me like a slow explosion gathering force. He pulls down the top of my bra. A chill hits my breast before the warmth of his mouth closes over it.
I cry out when he takes my nipple between his teeth, tugging and sucking it until I’m paralyzed by the sensation.
But deep down, I know it’s more than the sensation that is shuttling my body faster and faster toward the brink of bliss.
It’s because he’s the one generating the sensation.
It’s him.
It’s always been him.
No, no, no!My brain screams, bitch-slapping my inner sex goddess.We hate him. We hate him. We hate him!
A flash of white light in my periphery makes me blink fast, like a harsh wake-up call to return to the land of the sane people.
I pull away, immediately feeling the void which I’d gotten used to over the past four years once my nipple slips from his lips. He pulls back, his blue eyes hooded with lust and glittering with rage. Another car pulls into the driveway next to us. I quickly close my robe under his penetrating stare. As if a simple scrap of fabric can fend off the deviant beast in front of me.
“Someone is here.” My voice hitches, tripping over the lump lodged in my throat.
