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“The fact that you kidnapped him and beat him up in the first place.”
“He had it coming when he messed with my fucking sister.”
“You were messing with his fucking brother!”
“I never forced you.”
“And you think heforcedher? If you weren’t so up your own arse, you would’ve seen the way she looks at him. She loves him, Nikolai. She’sin lovewith him. And you might not want to believe this, but he loves her, too, in his own fucked-up way.”
I bite my tongue again, this time due to the images I came back with from the States. A part of me refuses to subscribe to the very foundation of that idea, but he’s right. Annoyingly so.
“Okay.”
His finger falls from my chest as the anger melts at the edges, replaced by bemusement. “Okay?”
“Yeah, okay. I was home and Landon was also there, trying to woo my parents.”
By the grimace on his face, he knows very well that the scenario I just described is a recipe for disaster. That’s the difference between Landon and Bran. The psycho just pushes through everything and hopes for the best. My lotus flower is much more calculated and gets off on control. He’d never make a decision before he mulls it over.
I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but I really wish he was a bit like his brother sometimes. Not his character—fucking revolting—but the way he lets himself loose.
“What did he do?” he asks carefully. “Did you get into a fight again?”
“No.”
“You mean to tell me you were in the same room with Lan and didn’t punch him?”
“I would’ve loved to.”
“Then why didn’t you? I’m pretty sure your punch-first-think-later mentality wasn’t the reason you restrained yourself.”
“No, it wasn’t. But I knew if I hurt him again, I’d lose you, and that’s not a fucking option.”
His lips part and I want to bite the bottom one beneath my teeth and feast on him, swallow him whole, and fuck this morbid tension out of the both of us.
But then he opens his stupid fucking mouth. “Too bad. You already lost me.”
I plant my palms on the counter on either side of him and lean into his face until he has no choice but to step back or let me kiss him.
He goes for the former, but that leaves him trapped between me and the counter.
“Want to test that, baby?” I invade his space until my lips are mere inches away from his.
“Back off,” he orders in that bossy tone that gets my dick all twitchy.
“Not in this lifetime.”
He jacks his forearm against my throat, nearly crushing my windpipe as his eyes shine with dangerous anger and uncontainable lust. “Don’t even think about touching me.”
“You’re the one who’s doing that. Can’t keep your hands off me, baby?”
“I’m pushing you away.”
“Still counts. Mmm. I missed the feel of your skin on mine.”
“You’re fucking crazy.”
“About you. Always.”
