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Hate swells inside me.
Even though she’s done nothing wrong.
Simply because I need a target and she has the ability to affect me.
I hate that I want to hurt her.
To own her.
To taste her.
Keeping her in my stare, I wince from my muscles locked painfully tight, my teeth grinding. It’s difficult to swallow or breathe.
When I allow myself to take a slow glance down her body, I feel a surge of something else behind the anger.
Want.
Need.
An undeniable desire to tame this woman like life tried to tame me.
The difference is where my life failed to keep me on my knees, I won’t fail with her.
She doesn’t know me.
And I don’t need to know her.
Not for this.
“You know nothing about scars.”
I didn’t mean to step forward so quickly that Blue trips over her own feet in an attempt to back away. Her ass hits the floor with a heavy thump, her neck craning back so she can look up at me with eyes that can see the scars I keep hidden.
She’ll never force me to admit to them, though. Not some cage dancer who gets paid to show skin.
Still, my mouth waters to look at her.
Red would never surrender so easily in a moment like this, not like Blue.
Her blue hair falls over her shoulders, the ends dusting her bare stomach. I study the skin of her abdomen, pale like Red’s but defined by muscle she gained from dancing.
Eyes creeping up, I stare a little too long at the black leather bra top she wears. Her tits are barely contained by it, her breath causing her chest to heave as she sits so agonizingly still.
Our stares lock, violet against amber, rage running behind mine, while fear runs behind hers.
I don’t notice the deep silence of the room until she speaks and destroys it.
“I know you’ve been through hell.” Her voice is shaking, but she doesn’t move as I step closer. She also doesn’t shut the fuck up. “Probably more than me. But I’ve walked through hell just the same.”
The corner of my mouth curls. “Doubt it.”
There’s an audible pop of my knees when I squat down in front of her.
Blue’s arms are at her sides holding her upper body up, her legs bent in front of her, crossed at the ankles.
Normally, the floor of a dirty back room would be the last place I’d want to fuck, but…
“Here we are. Let’s work through this.”
