“What the fuck was that with my brother down there?”
I shrug my shoulder. “I just figured if you were going to have fun, so was I.”
“Or you just figured if you were going to be jealous, you wanted me to be too?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, you fucked up because the idea of you and my brother doesn’t make me jealous.” His hand slides up my hip.
“No?” I ask because I have a hard time believing that.
“No. It makes me wanna fuck shit up. Burn shit down. And you know me. You know I’ll do anything to avoid conflict. So you’re gonna promise me you’re not gonna do that again.” He leans in so close I can feel the heat of his body against mine, can practically feel the irritation vibrating off him.
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I taunt him.
“No? Why not?” His fingers curl around the back of my neck and his thumb massages the corner of my jaw.
“Just something about him. I can’t resist it. He’s just so fucking—”
Easton’s thumb swipes over my lips silencing me, and his knee goes between my legs, pinning me hard against the wall. A derisive laugh rumbles through him and a smirk that draws up on one side—one that makes him look like he could be the devil incarnate—tugs at his lips.
“Why are you pushing my buttons, Princess?”
I don’t answer him. I just stare at him silently.
“You’re not gonna tell me?” His thumb swipes back and forth over my lower lip, and his eyes follow it.
“Because I hate you,” I say finally.
His eyes snap up, something flickering in his as he searches mine before they harden.
“You don’t hate me. You just hate how much you want me. Hate how much you crave getting fucked. Hate how much you like sucking my cock.”
The way he talks works on me like it does every time. Making my whole body warm. Making my nerve endings tight. Making my clit fucking pulse.
I roll my lower lip between my teeth and try to look over his shoulder, try to feel and think about something other than him.
“Like the way you sucked me this morning. Trying to play it off like it was gratitude. Like you just want to thank me for everything. But Princess, no one has ever sucked my cock the way you do. Like you love it. Like you’d do anything to make me feel good. I think you’d get on your knees anytime I asked.” His lips ghost along my throat, dotting kisses on the way and finally sucking on the tender spot of flesh where my throat meets my shoulder, and a little gasp leaves my lips. “Would you do that for me?”
“Now?” I whisper because I would.
He grins, “Fuck, you would. Wouldn’t you?”
“Fuck you,” I grit out, realizing that he’s taunting me.
“Oh trust me. I want you to, but there are things I want more than that.”
“Like what?” I ask quietly.
He smiles again, and then leans in and kisses me. The softest brush of his lips and then a slow, languid kiss that makes me feel like my whole body is on fire.
“Take your panties off for me,” he whispers against my lips.
I slide my hands under my skirt, hooking the lace band with my fingers and pulling them down and off without ever leaving his grip.
“Put them in my pocket.”
“What? Why?”