Page 80 of Controlled Burn
She was halfway up the landing when the door slammed behind her.
Talia froze—shoulders stiff, hair wild, a curl caught at the edge of her mouth. Her lips were glossy, bitten. Her eyes looked tired, but they didn’t waver.
She didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Dean walked up the last few steps, boots heavy on the concrete, and blocked her path without a word. She tried to step around him.
He grabbed her wrist—fingers rough, heat searing through her skin.
Talia turned her head, slow, deliberate. “Let go.”
His grip tightened. “We need to talk.”
“You made that pretty clear last time, Maddox. I’m just a rookie, remember?” Her voice dripped with venom. “You don’ttalk to rookies. You just fuck them on rooftops and pretend they don’t exist.”
“I didn’t mean that—”
“No?” She wrenched her arm. “You told your wife I meant nothing.”
“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
Her laugh was bitter, sharp. “Well, I did. And now you don’t get to rewrite it just because you’re spiraling.”
He stepped forward. She didn’t back down.
“You don’t get to be angry,” she said, low and furious. “You threw me away.”
“I had to,” he ground out.
“Bullshit.”
He shoved her back against the wall. The sound echoed—a dull thud of spine against cinderblock. Her eyes didn’t flinch, didn’t waver. She stared him down like she wanted him to snap.
“I warned you,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “I said I’d destroy you.”
“You did,” she spat.
His hand found her chin, rough, unkind. “You fucked Jake. You fucked Ryan. You let them—” His voice broke, gravel catching fire. “You let them film it.”
Talia’s lip curled. “What’s the matter, Captain? Mad they got there after you?”
He lost it. His hand slid to her throat, pressing—not enough to cut off air, but enough to silence her, to make her pulse jump.
She gasped softly, chest rising. Her pulse throbbed against his fingers, her whole body alive with defiance and want.
“You want to be used?” he growled, the words vibrating against her skin. “Is that it? You want to be fucked like a problem instead of treated like a person?”
Her pupils dilated. She didn’t answer. Didn’t pull away either.
His hand stayed on her throat, thumb stroking her jaw. His breath was hot against her cheek—the smell of coffee, sweat, and something darker. Something uniquely Dean?Maddox.
“Talia,” he said, voice rough as gravel. “Say something.”
“Why?” Her voice was raspy now. “So you can feel better about losing control?”
He leaned in, nose brushing her cheek, lips grazing her ear. “You like when I lose control.”
“Fuck you.”
