Page 18 of Brutal Sin

He was a unicorn. That wasall.

A vicious, snarling anomaly.

And if she wanted to be brutally honest with herself, she wasn’t entirely enthusiastic about propositioning previous play partners. The possibility of repeating the mistakes of her past made her skin crawl.

She stopped in the doorway, taking in the shadowed sight of him as he leaned against the wall, staring at the threesome kissing and caressing on the circular bed in the middle of the room. The appeal of Zoe and her men had always drawn Pamela’s attention. Not tonight, though. Right now, she couldn’t stop staring at the man who owned her pleasure. The man who made her pussy clench with remembrance.

Damnhim.

She came to his side, ignoring the deep, woodsy scent of his aftershave wrapping its potion around her. “Hey.”

Ten children could have been conceived in the time it took his gaze to finally meet hers. There were no words. No familiarity or friendship. Only obligation bleached of warmth as he jutted his chin. Not only a cold shoulder, but a cold stare.

Problem was, she was here now, by his side, and she didn’t want to walk away with her tail between her legs. Especially not when Shay’s words repeated in her head, mantra-style—doesn’t stop him from fucking like a Trojan.

“Are you working?” She fought to remain detached. “You’re still wearing yoursuit.”

“Just finished.”

His tone carried a hint of “fuck off.” A hint she should take. She should grasp the warning and stride from the room. From the club. From his life. Instead, she let her focus wander along the strong lines of his chest, down to the thick thighs she could still remember pressed againsther.

Curse him for being a tease to her starved ovaries.

Those hands had inspired daydreams capable of lasting months. Those legs had helped stabilize her during the most tumultuous orgasm.

He pushed from the wall and walked by her without so much as a farewell.

“Hey.” She frowned at his retreating back. “Holdup.”

He stopped, his shoulders broad and menacing.

“Are you interested in playing tonight?”

This time the beat of silence rang in her ears like an exploding bombshell. The world collectively held its breath.

Slowly, he turned to face her, the furrow between his brows sharp enough to cut stone. “Have I done anything in the last five minutes to give you the impression I’m interested?”

“Uh…” Her throat dried, cutting off her words.

“The answer you’re looking for is no,” he muttered under his breath. “I didn’t say hello. I didn’t even smile. Then I fucking walked away. What more do I have todo?”

Shock addled her brain, making coherence impossible. She didn’t know whether to apologize or lash out. Whimper or snarl. She’d been in this situation before. Many times. But always in reverse. She’d never been accused of not taking a hint. She was always the accuser. Difference was, she wasn’t such an ass about it. “A simple ‘no’ would’ve sufficed.”

“Then, ‘no.’” He raised his voice and his arms at the same time, drawing attention. “I’m not interested.”

She blinked on rapid repeat, trying to remain strong while humiliation burned her cheeks. “You’re a rude son-of-a-bitch.”

She walked past him, unwilling to let him get his belittlingfix.

“Hold up.” The command reverberated off the walls, stopping orgasms, pausing foreplay. Her cheeks heated as more than one inquisitive stare turned toward them. “I’m a son-of-a-bitch?”

Panic clogged her throat. She was confident. Empowered. But up against a man like Brute, her self-worth flickered, threatening to snuff completely.

“That’s enough,” Zoe’s voice carried from the bed. “Whatever this is, it doesn’t need to be shared in front of a crowd. Brute, you should know better.”

No, Pamela should’ve known better. She should’ve listened to her gut and left well-enough alone. Before resentment settled in. Before she’d turned to Shay for help. And definitely before this thug had entered the picture.

“I’m not the only one who should know better.” Bryan strode by her. “Ignorance to the club rules is becoming an epidemic downhere.”

---