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“My brother’s right there. If he sees you, you’re dead,” I say.
“Let him watch. I’m sure Nathan would love an excuse to kill him if he tries to intervene,” he says.
Kill my brother?That’s a step too far.
Defensive rage floods my veins. “Fuck no, I’d kill you both before you even tried.”
“How many jabs would you get in with that little knife of yours before I put a bullet in his brain?” he asks, and my hand instinctively reaches down to his pocket, where I definitely feel something hard, metallic, an outline of a gun.
My jaw tenses. Of course he wouldn’t sneak into a Rivera club empty-handed.
And fuck me; I hate admitting he’s right. I wouldn’t put a dent in these fuckers before they shot up everyone I loved.
“Are you willing to take that risk?” he asks. “To have all these people suffer because of your choices?”
Fuck. When he says it like that, it’s impossible for me to run to my brother.
“You sure are confident for someone stepping into enemy territory,” I reply, trying to play it off cool.
He swirls me around again until we’re face-to-face. “We don’t fear people … people fear us.” His finger dips underneath my chin, forcing me to look up into his eyes, which glimmer with a kind of madness I’ve only ever seen in the mirror. “And your fear is what I crave.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, my heartbeat shooting up. “Have you always been this fucked up and depraved?”
“Not until I met you … and decided I wanted to make your little violent heart mine.”
I scoff, “You wish. I don’t belong to anyone.”
He pulls me so close I can barely breathe, his lips mere inches away from my face. “You already belonged to me the second you came looking for me, yearning to learn who it was that kissed you.”
“I was trying to find out who the fucker was that invaded my privacy,” I retort.
“The one who made you come on his knee and licked your pussy until you pleaded to God?”
My pussy thumps in response to his filthy words, and I fucking hate how easy it’s become for him to get me all riled up. Fuck. I’d hoped he wouldn’t bring it up again because I’m still so goddamn embarrassed I let him do all that, thinking it was Jason.
“You pretended to be Jason,” I hiss.
“I didn’t pretend to be anyone. You made that assumption,” he responds.
And fuck me, he’s right, I did, but who wouldn’t?
“How did you even get into my room?” I ask. “Jason was still—”
“Fucking you,” he interjects, making me hold my breath. “And I was already there.”
My eyes widen.
Wait … what?
He was there … when Jason fucked me?
“Where?”
A filthy smirk slowly marks his face. “Under your bed, listening to every sound, every breath, every nonexistent moan.” He leans in to whisper. “Moans I gave to you the second he left.”
My heart stands still for a moment, and even though this place is packed to the brim, it feels as though only the two of us are here.
Fuck.
