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“I didn’t lie,” I gasp, struggling to catch oxygen. A tear trickles down my face. I only hid the truth. I never lied. He never asked, and I never told.
“No?” He releases his grip on my throat and grabs the back of my neck, pushing me against the counter until my cheek is touching the cool granite. His hand comes down on my ass. Hard.
I wiggle, trying to free myself, but it only makes him tighten his grip.
Max may be gone, but Emma could be home at any minute. As much as I want him to fuck me against the counter, I can’t risk her seeing me like this. They can’t know that I’ve moved on from their father. Not this way.
“Please. My daughter . . .”
Declan chuckles. “Don’t want your daughter to know what a bad girl you’ve been, doll?”
I shake my head. “She can’t. She can’t find out this way.”
“Find out what? That two weeks ago, you were in this same position in my penthouse, cleaning my dick off with your mouth after you made a mess all over it?” His hand strokes my back. “Oh. Do you mean she can’t find out that her mother is a cheating whore?”
I shove away from him, but he doesn’t let me budge. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
I close my eyes, blinking away the tears. Once I catch my breath, I think of all the ways I can get out of this hold. I can gain control of the situation; unlike the last time someone broke into my home. I muster up the courage, and then my eyes snap open. There’s a chef’s knife within reach.
“Batman!” I call.
He chuckles. “No safe words for lying sluts.” Declan’s hand slides into the waistband of my jeans.
I chuckle, excited that he thinks I’m calling our safe word. No, I’m calling the fucking safe dog.
Bruce comes barreling into the kitchen, hearing his nickname being called. The second he’s beside me, he gets into attack mode, his teeth barred.
“One fucking command, Declan, and he will tear through your face like butter,” I grind out. “Let me go, or I’ll say it.”
“Call him off, Sammy,” Declan snaps, his grip on my neck tightening. “I have a fucking gun, and I’ll shoot him.”
“Sitzen,” I say.
Bruce sits, his hackles still straight as he growls.
“He will kill, and he will die for me, Declan. That’s what he’s trained to do. Let go of me and I will call him off.”
“Fuck,” he growls, but finally releases me.
I reach for the handle of the knife, then twirl around to face him. I don’t hesitate, pressing the blade to his throat. “This is where my children live,” I say, huffing through the rage building inside of me.
This isn’t sexy, this isn’t something that should turn me on. My babies live here, and he’s a threat to them.
“This is my house, and I refuse to be hurt here again.” The blade bites into his flesh, blood dripping down his throat. I snarl, my teeth showing as I step forward.
“Calm down, Sammy,” Declan whispers, his hands coming up in surrender.
I nod toward the dining table. “Sit the fuck down.”
He backs up, making his way to the table. Each step he takes helping to regain the lack of power I always felt I never had. He’s listening, he’s not fighting, and it gives me the courage to keep this act going. I tilt my head to the side, watching as he plops into the chair. The knife never leaves his skin.
“Give me your gun,” I demand.
He swallows, but nods and pulls the gun from his hip. I take it, make sure a round is racked, then lower the knife while I train the end of the barrel on his forehead.
“Don’t fucking move,” I say, walking backward toward the junk drawer for tape. When I have it, I toss it toward him. “Tie your legs and one of your wrists to the chair.”
