Page 81 of Spilled Coffee

CHAPTER 45

The apartment was like a war-zone.Furniture was pushed over, the coffee table overturned, its contents scattered haphazardly across the floor, while a large lamp lay broken in pieces close by.

The chaos wasn’t just physical, it was a volatile tension still waiting to explode.

Ethan lay pinned to the floor, his bare chest grinding against the rough, unforgiving wood as Devon’s crushing weight bore down on him.

His breaths came in short, shallow bursts as he struggled not to panic. “Get the fuck off me!” he growled.

The large man’s knee was digging into his lower back while he had one of his wrists twisted behind him at an angle that sent a searing pain radiating up his arm. His other hand clawed at the floor, desperate for leverage, trying to gain even an inch of freedom.

Devon pressed down harder, leaning in close so that Ethan could feel the heat of his breath against the nape of his neck.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he hissed with a dark amusement. “You think you can fight me? You’re not half as tough as you pretend to be.”

A surge of desperation flared in Ethan’s chest, a burning need to prove him wrong, to get this bastard off him if it killed him.

With a guttural yell, he wrenched one hand free and swung it upward in a wild punch. His knuckles connected with Devon’s jaw in a brutal crack that echoed through the room like a gunshot.

Devon jerked back with a grunt, a hand flying to his face as he staggered slightly. “You little fucker,” he spat, his voice edged with both fury and something almost resembling admiration. He prodded his jaw gingerly, testing it with a grimace. “I’ll give you that one,” he said, his lips curling into a wolfish grin. “Nice shot. But now you’re gonna regret it.”

It was the opening Ethan needed, the fraction of a second where Devon loosened his grip, and using the spike of adrenaline coursing through his veins, he twisted free and scrambled to his feet.

His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, and his heart was pounding so loudly. “Come on then.” Ethan squared his stance and raised his fists. His tone venomous as he glared at Devon with a mixture of rage and defiance. “You wanna fight? Let’s go.”

But Devon was fast—much too fast—and before Ethan could throw another punch, he lunged forward. His hand shot out, catching Ethan’s fist mid-swing, twisting it with a vicious precision that made the smaller man cry out.

“Aw—fuck!” he yelled as a white-hot agony shot through his shoulder. He staggered back, but refused to crumble completely. “Get the fuck off me!”

They were locked in a brutal grapple, and Devon used all of his superior strength to force Ethan back. “No way,” he snarled, his breath hot against Ethan’s ear. “Not now.” There was an unsettling edge to his voice. “I like the way you punch. Showsyou’ve got some fight in you. I really like that in my men.” He paused for effect before leaning in closer, his tone dropping to something darker. “But I’m done messing around. You owe me, and I’m taking my payment.”

“No—” Ethan’s voice cracked with both fury and fear as he struggled against Devon’s unrelenting grip.

His knees buckled and again Devon forced him face down onto the floor with brutal efficiency. Pain exploded across his forehead as it connected with the unforgiving wood—a sharp jolt that left him momentarily dazed.

Blood trickled from the cut above his brow, blurring his vision as he thrashed wildly beneath the larger man’s weight.

“Fuck you!” Ethan screamed, raw panic clawing at his throat as he kicked and writhed with everything he had left in him.

Devon was clearly enjoying every second of this. He was gentle as he yanked at the waistband of Ethan’s jeans, tugging them lower inch by agonizing inch.

“No…” Ethan’s voice rose in pitch as desperation consumed him. Every nerve in his body screamed for escape, but Devon’s hold was ironclad, a trap he couldn’t break free from no matter how hard he fought.

“Keep fucking still,” Devon growled, his teeth clenched as he wrestled with both Ethan’s and his own belt buckle.

The clink of metal sent another wave of terror crashing over Ethan, fueling his frantic resistance. “What…” he spat back defiantly despite the mounting dread threatening to suffocate him. “You seriously think I’m just gonna let you do this?” His voice was fierce—a last stand against something that seemed inevitable.

Devon didn’t answer, but he shifted his weight until Ethan could barely breathe under the crushing force holding him down.

Both men froze at once when they suddenly heard the knock on the door.

Logan paced back and forth in the dimly lit hallway between apartments, boots scuffing against the threadbare carpet with restless steps. His jaw was set tight as he clutched his keys in one hand and rapped the door harder with the other.

“Ethan,” he barked gruffly, leaning close to the door as if sheer will could make it open. His voice carried an edge of impatience but also concern buried beneath layers of irritation.

Devon flattened against Ethan’s back, forcing the air from his lungs, leaving him heaving. His muscles tensed and for a heartbeat, there was nothing but silence—thick, suffocating silence—as if even the room itself held its breath.

Then came another knock. This one thundered against the door.

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