Page 33 of Frozen Hearts
“It feels like it, too,” I grumble, recalling how hard it felt beneath my face.
“I’m unbelievably jealous.” Tara pouts. “He’s got all the damaged, bad-boy vibes that just suck me in. Please tell me he’s as sexy up close as he is from over here.”
“Sexier,” I tell her with a twist of my lips. “But he’s a total asshole.”
“Ugh, you’re only making me want him more,” she teases.
I shake my head at her as we reach the bar and she stretches over the countertop to grab us two fresh beers. “Nah, like atotal dick,” I tell her. “I accidentally crashed into him, and he accused me of following him and deliberately trying to get him to notice me. Sure, he’s hot, but get over yourself, dude.”
“Ugh, what a dick,” Tara groans in agreement. “Doesn’t mean he isn’t hot, though. Or that we can’t come back and drool over him the next time he’s fighting.”
Chuckling, I shake my head and turn to look out over the rest of the room as another fight commences.
“Where are the bathrooms?” I ask as I finish off my second beer.
Tara points toward a door to my left. “Just through there. I’ll be right here,” she tacks on when I set down my empty beer bottle before heading toward the door she pointed out.
I step through it into a narrow hallway that looks as though it runs the length of the building. Spotting two doors up ahead, I amble toward them. The first one has a sign indicating it’s the men’s room, but as I pass by, the door flies open, making me jump back and flatten my body against the wall as Ruthless storms out, looking as enraged as he did in the ring.
His black hoodie is unzipped, hanging open so I can see the white muscle shirt underneath that clings to every one of his large, sharply defined muscles.
“You,” he snarls. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He doesn’t give me a chance to answer before snapping, “I fucking knew you were following me.” His lip curls up in a sneer as his gaze lowers over my skimpy outfit, and I swear I’m going to punch Tara in the tits for forcing me into this damn dress.
You’ll totally fit in. No one from Halston will even be there, she said.
Lies. All of it was lies.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” he growls in that deep, rough rasp that must have women everywhere suddenly searching for new underwear. “Get on your knees.”
His harshly barked words snap me out of my fantasy. “Excuse me?”
“You’re desperate enough to follow me all the way out here, so you might as well get what you came for.”
All I can do is blink up at him, my mouth slightly parted.
The fucking audacity of this guy.
He steps closer, eliminating the space between us. His piercing blue eyes scour my face before slowly trailing down my neck and lingering on my sharp nipples poking against the fabric of my black dress.
“You’re pretty, I’ll give you that,” he says in a husky tone.
Dragging his eyes back to mine, he quirks a brow. “I don’t have all night. If you want to know what my cum tastes like, you better hurry up and get on those knees.”
It’s the arrogant way that he lifts his eyebrow that snaps me into action, and I don’t register what I’ve done until I feel the sharp sting against my palm.
Fuck, that hurt.
“You entitled fucking asshole,” I snarl at him, absolutely furious, as I shake my hand out to abate the sting.
His blue eyes darken with anger as he glares right back, but despite his feral glint and the fact that he could crush me like a bug beneath his shoe, I jab my finger into his rock-hard chest. “I could accuse you of stalkingme, only I’m not that fucking conceited. As for tasting your cum, I’d rather bathe in horse shit. Dunk my face in a vat of acid. Rub my body in gasoline and set myself on fire. Lick—”
“Think I’ve got it,” he hisses, a new hostility in his tone.
“Do you?” I bark, still plenty riled up. “Do you actually? ‘Cause if you pull this shit the next time we meet like this, I’m going to slap your balls instead of your face.”
For some asinine reason, one side of his lips quirks in the faintest of smiles. One I’d have missed if we weren’t standing so close.
I’m so glad the asshole is finding this amusing.
