Page 40 of Savage Hate
“Are you saying you wouldn’t deserve it?” His breath is hot and heady, and it sends shivers down my spine as it tickles my face.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, breathing heavily.
“Graduation night,” he answers, his voice low. His hand moves up to my jaw, a finger coming underneath my chin. “Are you saying we don’t deserve to get vengeance for that night?”
“Silas said–”
He slowly shakes his head. “I’m not Silas.”
I swallow as his calloused thumb caresses my skin, and my eyes flutter closed as a tremble works through me at the gesture. It’s suddenly so hot in here–so hot, but also so cold…
His hand trails down my neck to my exposed chest, and my nipples betray me by peaking against the fabric of my unpadded sports bra. They rub against the fabric, and I have to stifle a moan as his finger does circles around one of them.
“Is this for me, princess?” he asks, his voice rough and grating. “Or are you just a little slut for anyone who gives you any attention?” I open my mouth to retort, but his other hand comes over my mouth. “Did that fiancé of yours not know how to properly fuck you?”
I look up at him with wide eyes. His hand is salty, and I yearn to flick my tongue out and taste it, but I don’t. Instead, I take a step back as his hands fall to his sides.
“I’ll ask you again. Do you trust us?”
I stare at him for a second too long before I turn and walk away without answering.
twenty-four
Lennon
That night, as I’m walking into work, I try not to think about how I can still imagine what Jude’s come tasted like, or how my body reacted to Damon’s breath as it tickled my skin. Neither of them is my type, and neither of them haseverbeen on my radar until recently. And then there’s the fact that I amwaymore inexperienced than they all are. I mean, just look at the three of them. There’s no way women aren’t falling over themselves to sleep with them. All I have to my name is an incredible night in Cancun, once, with Wright. That was the only night he was able to make me come. I had to rely on my handy vibrators to get the job done all of those other times.
I shake the thought away and walk through the door of Savage Ink. Silas is sitting at the desk, brows furrowed as he scans something on the large computer. He doesn’t look over as I set my purse down, and it’s only when I clear my throat that he looks up at me. His cerulean eyes scan my face briefly before moving down my black skinny jeans, white tee, and heeled boots. They linger for a second on the boots, then he cocks his head and leans back as he gives me a lopsided grin.
“You copied my outfit,” he observes, crossing his arms.
Indeed, we are matching–white shirts, black pants, black boots. Except he fills out his shirt way better than I do. And today, he has a rosary around his neck.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to the string of beads.
He looks down and fingers the necklace. “Irony,” he answers, his voice low.
He doesn’t have to say anything else, and I don’t inquire. Instead, I walk to the restroom to make sure it’s tidy before clients begin to come in. When I come back out, Silas is standing near the front door, looking down at his phone.
“I’m running out for some drinks and food. Want anything?”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
He stares at me for a beat. “You don’t have to do that around me, you know.”
I shake my head. “Do what?”
He sighs, brushing his lip with his thumb and looking away for a second. “Be amenable.” I tilt my head in confusion, and he huffs a laugh. “If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?”
I grin and answer without hesitating. “A cupcake.”
He smirks. “There we go. One cupcake to go. Any flavor preferences?”
I shrug. “Vanilla?”
He gives me a dark, lewd smile. “Not for long.”
And then he turns and walks out.
