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“I guess Eli has a soft spot for me. Or a hard spot, if you know what I mean,” I give him an exaggerated wink.
The guard’s face twists in disgust. Definitely a homophobe. Awesome.
“Just so you know, Eli eventually killed his last lover boy. So don’t get too excited. Eventually, he’s going to end you too.”
“If you say so,” I reply hoping I sound more confident than I feel.
What if I’m wrong? What if the guard is right and I was lucky to have survived Eli the first time because Maddie saved me?
Maybe it was incredibly stupid to show up here and tempt fate. Or tempt the torturer.
The asshole guards all get a text at the same time that they read on their phones before they finally leave me.
And then, the jackass makes me wait and wait a little longer before showing his face.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Eli says in greeting, the sound of his dress shoes echoing around the empty space with each step. His hair is pulled back, bringing out the sharp lines of his sculpted jaw, making him even more handsome.
“It’s good to see you too,” I tell him. My eyes lower to his right calf covered by his suit pants. Like in Rockland, he’s dressed in a black fitted suit meant to try and contain the beast underneath, the tattoos on the back of his hands, promising pain.
“How’s your leg? You’re walking around looking fine as hell so it must be healing.”
“What are you doing here, Jordan?” he asks when he comes to a stop about five feet away, eyeing me up and down, ignoring my compliment and question.
“I came to see Maddie. And you. Obviously.”
Eli’s eyes narrow. “Is this some trick where you try and get me on your side by pretending you give a shit about me?”
“I missed you both,” I tell him truthfully. “Didn’t you miss me?”
“I missed fucking with your dick and your mouth.”
“So, you missed me.”
“Not any of the parts that you want me to care about.”
“I’ll take what I can get for now,” I reply. “Are you going to take my dick out or what? The anticipation is killing me. My balls are getting so blue they may just fall off.”
“Oh, yeah?” Eli asks, coming a few steps closer. “You’ve been thinking about my mouth? My dick?”
“More than I should.”
“I’ve thought about yours too,” Eli finally admits. “Now that you’re here, I could cut out your tongue and slice off your dick to keep them close.”
“You know your threats don’t scare me, right?” When he doesn’t respond to that, I ask him seriously, “I don’t think you’re the big, bad monster you pretend to be. You just have…some violent kinks.”
Eli chuckles at that, and I swear the man even has a little color warming his cheeks as he slips off his suit jacket. He hangs it over a nearby chair, then loosens his tie while still laughing. “Some violent kinks? You’re so full of shit.”
“I saw some of your MMA fights.”
He lifts a single eyebrow. “How did you do that?”
“I looked you up online.”
“You don’t even know my last name.”
“I didn’t need it. I did an internet search for Eli in Vegas and boom, tons of videos of you kicking people’s ass in the cage. You are easy to recognize, you know, with the long hair. I like how you had those narrow braids all through it for fights. Was that so the other guys couldn’t try to pull it?”
“You actually watched the videos of my old fights?” he asks with a grin, sounding stunned.
