Page 59 of Reclaimed

I raise a brow. “Who says I did?”

Her shoulders tense, demeanor changing on a dime. “Did… did Harris pay you to bring me back?”

“No,” I scoff.

Like that shit smear could afford my services.

“Then who, The Registry?” She looks around, gesturing vaguely. “Is this just a stop on the way?”

I fold my arms across my chest, propping an elbow against the wall. “Undecided.”

She narrows her eyes. “Why am I here, then?”

“I said I’d be back, little stray, and I’m a man of my goddamn word.”

She blinks back at me, seemingly still confused. Then realization dawns and sets her eyes ablaze.

“Really?” She barks an incredulous laugh. “That’s what this is about?” Her lip curls meanly. “Aw, is the poor little Repo Man fucking butt hurt because he didn’t get a turn with me?”

I don’t answer.

I don't have to.

Something vicious flickers across her face as she spreads her arms open. “Well, come on then,” she taunts, taking a step towards me. “Take it. Do your worst.”

“My worst?” I chuckle.

“Did I stutter?” she quips as she takes another step closer, stabbing a finger into my chest and punctuating each word. “Do. your. Fucking. Worst.”

I snatch her wrist, her lips parting on a gasp.

“If I knew you had a death wish, I’d have left you with Harris.”

Her lips twist in a scowl. “Fuck you,” she spits, trying to yank her arm back.

I tighten my grip and yank her against my chest instead.

“Only if you beg.”

“I’d rather choke,” she scoffs.

I drag her hand down to my thickening cock, letting her feel exactly what her backtalk does to me. My other arm bands around her waist, pulling her even closer. “That can probably be arranged.”

Her breath hitches, cheeks flushing pink. “You really are a fucking insufferable prick.”

“And yet, here you still are,” I muse.

Her throat bobs with a swallow, tongue darting out to wet her lips. “Says the man who brought me here.”

My hand darts up, catching her jaw. “ I’m a man of my fucking word.”

Something dark and daring brews in her eyes as she blinks up at me, her chest heaving as she says, “Prove it.”

That restless fucking itch I’ve been fighting finally crawls through and takes hold. I shove my hand into her mouth, making her gag as I press down on her tongue with my thumb. “First, I’m going to prove that this mouth can do something besides piss me off.”

I drag her by the mouth to the console table, the back of it hitting her knees as I push her back onto it, releasing my hold. She lands with a thud, then her hands move to the waistband of my grey sweats, shoving it down. My hard cock springs free, and I swear that bratty little mouth twitches with a smile as I give myself a lazy stroke.

“Open,” I command.