Page 47 of Manhattan Tormentor

I smile because he’s pissed off.

I smile because he’s acting like a jealous jerk and I enjoy seeing him unhinged for once.

He growls and smashes his lips down on mine, plowing any words I might have said out of existence. Because the second his lips are on me, I do as I always do, and forget he’s the biggest asshole walking, kissing him back just as hungrily.

I’m sure he thinks he can tunnel his way to kingdom come with his tongue in my mouth. His taste…his fucking tasteknocks me sideways. I latch onto his head and give as good as he’s giving me.

He tastes of desperation and need. There’s nothing more that I want in this moment than to feed him, to satiate his wild hunger. I kiss him until my lungs expand. Against my better judgement, I devour him back.

He thinks he has the patent on feeling angry. He doesn’t. I don’t want this monster to be the one who wakes me up. Of all the out and proud queers in Manhattan, I have to want the closeted sexy bully. The one who only wants me when he’s drunk and high. The one who makes a sport out of messing with me any chance he gets.

The one who talks about fucking girls while he’s on the phone with me. It’s that thought alone and how moody I was for the rest of the night after that call that makes me wrench apart. Pushing at his chest, I move away from him so I can breathe again without tasting Finn fucking Maverick.

Pulling away from him is like tearing the flesh clean from my bones. Every instinct says the opposite. Be closer, fuse myself to him. Let Finn use me like a fucking bull if he wants to.

“Did you have Bates’ sloppy seconds the other night?” Surprise coasts over his face. “Forget it, I’m not interested.”

“No, I didn’t.” he croaks.

My heart is like a drumbeat, not to mention how hard he has me.

Finn doesn’t look any less calm when we clash gazes.

Someone attempts to walk in the bathroom—they would’ve gotten an eyeful had it been three seconds earlier—and Finn snarls, “get out.” The door slams shut. Then he rounds on me again.

“Whatever this little manly show is, you need to stay away from me, Finn.”

His irises swirl with unrestrained hunger. And when he tips down his chin and stares at me through his too long lashes, he appears tortured. The connection is short-lived. “I wish I fucking could.”

I almost break.

I almost relent.

Until I remember how he’s treated me.

Even after we hooked up, I was still the idiot he targeted for fun.

It’s me who walks the few feet and puts my face in his. He inhales, and I watch his pupils turn large, like he’s expecting me to kiss him.

My voice is gloomy. “Do me a favor and it’s the only one I’ll ever ask of you… go fuck yourself, Finn.”

He changes in a second. Shock at first, but then the smirk curling his lip is everything I know about him. The look says he’s won. That’s he’s got me to a point where I’ve lost my cool edge. The fucker might be right, but I’d chew my tongue out before I admit it.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Watching me jacking off for you.”

My stomach lining flames.

Dumbass that I am, I would kill to watch him again.

“You need validation that you’re not queer, Finn, is that it? You keep throwing out your tests to check your dick doesn’t twitch for me, right?”

He looks at me as though I’ve sucker punched him because he knows I’m right.

I haven’t asked for any of this, but I don’t act like a colossal fuckstick about it.

“You think it’s okay to seek me out, run your little queer tests because, god forbid, you might be gay. But you can’t have that, can you, Finn? You think it’s valid to be a prick to me because you admit you’re an asshole, so that’s okay if you’re accountable. It forgives your sins, yeah? You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

As I wrench open the bathroom door, I turn to find him watching me. Blankness is all I see through those gray eyes and too handsome features.

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