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“Take her pants off and check her knees. Then she can scurry back to your room and hide.”
Jagger’s jaw clenches, and for a second, I think he’ll tell Slade to fuck off. But then he steps forward, and his hands drop to the button of my jeans.
“Don’t,” I whisper, and his hands stop. His eyes move to my mouth before they lift to my eyes.
“I’m just making sure you’re okay.”
“Liar.”
He swallows and lowers the zipper of my jeans before he drops to his knees, his eyes never leaving mine. There’s fear snapping at me, but it’s not all I’m feeling. And that’s the thing that terrifies me right now.
He hooks his fingers in the belt loops and tugs my jeans down over my ass, slowly sliding them down my legs.
“There now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Slade purrs in my ear, but there’s a hint of malice in his tone.
I’ve never wanted a person to get hit by a bus more than I do right now. Saying that, I’m not picky. I’ll take him getting struck by lightning or getting mauled by a bear if that’s an option. Anything to get the douchewaffle away from me.
“Step out of your pants, Astrid. The sooner you do, the sooner I can clean you up, and this will all be over.”
I grit my teeth and do as he asks. He might be the lesser of two evils here, but he’s proving that he won’t go against Slade, so I’m very much on my own.
CHAPTER SIX
Slade
This woman could test the patience of a saint. As much as I want to throttle her, I can’t deny that having her ass pressed against me isn’t having an effect. The woman has curves for days, and every time she opens her mouth to sass me, I’m assaulted with images of shoving her to her knees and thrusting my cock down her throat.
“Help her back onto the counter.” Jagger glares at me.
Oh yeah, he’s pissed, but I don’t care. Given a chance, this woman would have him wrapped around both his finger and his cock. When he moves back, I spin Astrid around, hook my hands under her armpits, and lift her off her feet and onto the island. While she’s flustered, I shove her legs open and step into the space between them. I might not trust her, but that has no bearing on how much I want her. And that just adds to my anger.
“I see you want to flex your claws, kitten. But your efforts are wasted on us. So, how about you spare us the attitude? That way, we can get on with our jobs.”
She turns her head and looks away from me, focusing on a spot on the wall opposite us. Figuring that’s the best I’m going to get, I step back, and Jagger shoves me aside and tends to her knees. I keep my expression neutral as I take in the cuts and scrapes but tighten my fists at my sides, not liking the sight of her blood.
“Alright, you’re done. You want some painkillers?” Jagger stands and tucks her hair behind her ear.
“No,” she replies, but she keeps her gaze on that damn spot.
“Back to the bedroom for you, then. Jagger, once you’ve put this shit away, you’d better head over and let the others know that she attempted to escape.”
“It’s not like she made it far,” he argues, but I fold my arms across my chest.
“Doesn’t matter. It just proves she can’t be trusted.”
“Christ, I hope you know what you’re doing,” he mutters, shoving everything back in the first aid kit before tossing the bloody stuff in the trash.
Once he’s finished, he stares at me, his eyes drifting to Astrid for a moment before coming back to me. “Let me get her settled first.”
“I’ve got it. Go.”
If Astrid wasn’t here, he would probably have punched me by now. Though if she wasn’t here, we wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with.
“I’ll be back,” he says to Astrid before heading out.
She goes to slide off the counter but curses when she puts weight on her hurt palm. Moving to her, I lift and lower her to her feet. She takes a big step away from me and bends to pick her pants off the floor, but I reach for them and yank them away.
“Hey, give those back.”
