Page 74 of The Outlaw's Savage Revenge

My chest tightens, and an uncomfortable heat rises inside me. “Just because something’s for sale doesn’t mean it’s worth buying.”

“And you’ve spoken like a true marketer.” His sarcasm has me wishing for that pointy object again, especially when his smirk deepens.

Cade is just messing with me. Or maybe that’s me stupidly hoping he is. I make myself shrug like I couldn’t care less and press on with the answers I need.

“Delilah said you’re into men.”

“Did she now?”

“Any idea why she would say that?” I ask, not really expecting an answer but too curious not to ask.

Cade shrugs, his gaze fixed on the road. “She must have seen me working a scene in a club.”

I’m taken aback first, because he responded without hesitation. Then, my stomach knots with dread. “Like a . . . BDSM club?”

Cade gives his signature slow and lazy sideways nod, and I get a distinct feeling he’s leading me down a pitch-dark alley, enticing me with every step by dropping irresistible morsels of himself. “What kind of . . . scene?”

“Two men. Naked. On their knees for me.”

24

Luna

Two men . . . On their knees for Cade.

I swallow hard, flailing for my usual cloak of indifference, but my thoughts are whirling in a frantic storm. And highest among those is that hot, bitter knot of jealousy.

Which is completely irrational. I should be repulsed, not want him more.

Cade glances at me as if calculating how much I can handle. And then, suddenly, I understand why he’s being so open.

He’s pushing me.

He’s feeding me these tasty morsels of truth, waiting to see when I’ll finally break and run.

And I will run. But not until I know how deep this fascinating rabbit hole goes.

“So, you’re bi?”

“The scene wasn’t about sex. Not for me, anyway. So, no, I’m not bisexual.”

My fingers dig into the leather seat, my pulse a war drum in my throat. “But you were naked, too?”

Obviously, idiot, the bitch in my head answers for me.

Cade does that infuriating side nod again,lazy as a cat stretching.

“And yet you claim it wasn’t about sex.” I sneer, ignoring the jealousy still twisting my gut.

Cade’s eyes remain on the road as he shrugs. “They were both submissives. Both had a suffocation fetish. I was all too happy to oblige.”

The world contracts to pinpoints: my thundering pulse, the engine’s low growl, my clenched fists. And then the memory slithers in; rosary beads disappearing into Hector’s flesh. Cade is not just messing with me anymore—he’s taken up the test another notch.

“So you’re a . . . Dominant?” I whisper. We both know that’s not the real question here.

His laugh is dark velvet wrapped around a blade, sending shivers racing down my spine. It’s the sound of someone who knows exactly what question I’m too afraid to ask: whether his interest in choking has more to do with sex or death.

“Hector and the submissives, they had something in common,” Cade murmurs. “Can you take a wild guess at what that thing was, princess?

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