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And suddenly, all those ridiculous images that flashed through my mind during the party flicker across my vision again. Images of what Jace must have looked like when he participated in all those adventurous sexual activities that he admitted to when we played never have I ever. And I once again can’t help but wonder what it would be like to fuck someone as experienced as him. What it would be like to fuck him.
Anger quickly follows the thought, burning away those ridiculous images.
I yank against his grip on my wrist while planting my other palm on the table, trying to use it as leverage to push myself up. But I might as well have been pushing against a rock wall. His hand around the back of my neck keeps me mercilessly pinned to the table.
A snarl rips from my throat as I retort, “I wouldn’t fuck you even if you were the last man on earth.”
“Likewise.”
“Good.”
“Great.” He gives me another shove down into the tabletop, as if to truly rub his power over me in my face. “Now that we’ve established that, I’m going to allow you to get up. And then you are going to go back into your room and put some fucking clothes on. Understood?”
I slam my free hand into the tabletop. “I will not be?—”
“I said, am I making myself clear?” The sheer command in his voice sends a pulse straight through my soul.
Grinding my teeth, I struggle on the table again. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t get free. So in the end, I force out, “Yes.”
“Good.”
He releases my wrist and neck and takes a step back. I shoot upright and whip around to face him so fast that my hair smacks into his cheek on the way past. With fire burning in my eyes, I glare up at him.
Power ripples from his muscular body as he stares me down.
Raising his arm, he stabs a commanding hand towards my bedroom door. His unflinching gaze remains locked on me.
“I said,” he begins, his voice dripping with authority. “Get. Dressed.”
Electricity shoots up my spine.
No one ever orders me around. Or manhandles me. No one ever exerts power over me like this. I’m an Ashford. I give the orders.
But Jace doesn’t seem to give a shit about that. He acts as if the world belongs to him. As if everyone should bow at his feet. Me included.
Narrowing my eyes, I glare up at him.
He just keeps staring me down in silence, pointing that commanding hand towards my room.
A faint snarl rips from my lungs as I spin on my heel and stalk away.
But no matter how angry this damn bastard makes me, I can’t block out the memory of how much my clit throbbed when he bent be over the table like that.
12
JACE
She wants to play dirty? Fine, I can play dirty.
Lounging on the white couch in the living room, I pretend to scroll on my phone while I watch Kayla from the corner of my eye. She usually finishes up her evening read through of her study notes right about now and then heads back to her room to take a shower.
My phone vibrates in my hand as a text appears on the screen.
Marcus Jones: I’m here.
I discreetly glance at Kayla again. Seated at the kitchen table, she frowns down at the notebook before her and underlines something. She continues reading for another few seconds. Then she glances at the clock on the wall and sighs. Putting her pen down, she stretches her arms over her head before rolling her shoulders back.
Returning my attention to my phone, I send a quick reply.
