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Hyper fear has given her some serious skills.
I stand up from my chair because I don’t trust her… She just might open that pretty mouth and give herself to them in an effort to needle me in her fury.
“I won. So we’re going home. Unless, of course, you want to stay?”
Her eyes narrow into sparking slits. “Tempting, but I’m tired. I’d like to go.” And she doesn’t wait for me to respond. She just turns and marches to the door, stopping to wait for me since she can’t get out.
I punch in the simple code we were all given before arrival. She tries to push past me, but I catch her as she stumbles in the high heels. “Let go.”
“No. You can barely walk. How many shots did you have?”
“Not nearly enough,” she hisses at me.
I wrap an arm around her and lead her out into the busy night. A rush of cool air hits us once we step outside and I hug her tighter.
“Don’t touch me.”
I sigh and drop a kiss on the top of her head. My car’s waiting, so I open the door and help her in before I follow. She looks fucking amazing in that purple dress. It pops against her skin. My little sex kitten. Even though I fucked her back in the club not too long ago, I want her again.
I always want her.
But this time, I want it slow. To take my time. Maybe whip that pretty ass a little bit.
After all, the edges have been smoothed out, just a little.
She’s got an insane ability to make me hard and desperate as fuck for more right after I’ve lost myself in her.
“Baby Red, there was no way I was going to give you to them.”
Her eyes swim with bright tears, shimmery and heartbreaking, and for once in my fucked-up life, I feel bad for that. Not that I go around making women cry. And if they do, it’s usually over me not wanting them after a fuck.
This is different, but the fact I feel bad flummoxes me, makes me shift on the seat with unease because I don’t really know how to process it.
“Why the fuck did you bet me?”
“I didn’t… you…” I stop. Okay, it sounds bad even if I say she wasn’t a bet and that she was a prize. It’d be worse. I know that. “I told you I know how to play poker.”
She buries her head in her hands, and I can’t even begin to find the words.
Shit.
There’s play and there’s torture, and I don’t cross the line. I like a little touch of sadism in my humiliation games. But even as I’m about to say that, I stop. I wasn’t playing those games with her tonight. I was twisting her to my will, pushing her to her limits. I wanted her dancing on the edge, not flung over it.
“Scarlett,” I say softly. “I?—”
“Fucking asshole.” She interrupts me and then kicks me. Hard. “You bastard.” She kicks me again. Her eyes are glittering as she raises her head and drops her hands, and she’s angry, not crying. “I’m going to kill you.”
She goes to kick me again and I catch her legs this time. “I deserved that, Scarlett. But enough with the kicking.”
“You deserve so much more. When we get to your place, I’m getting a knife from the kitchen and stabbing you.”
She sounds so serious, so utterly furious, so… on fire that I start to laugh. That only makes her madder, basically spitting flames, and she tries to get free so she can attack me again.
All it does is expose her slender legs and lace panties.
“Now, that I’ll play for. We’ll just see who wins that one. I’m betting I’ll have you riding me before you can stab me.”
“Maybe,” she snarls, “I can do both.”
