Page 20 of Velvet Thorns
“Come on, Annie. I’m done playing cat and mouse.”
I toss Ryan an apologetic look. “Sorry, Ryan, rain check on the trauma bonding.”
The poor bastard takes one look at Phoenix behind me and goes so pale that he practically evaporates. I can’t say I blame him. Phoenix has always been the kind of guy people clear the way for, even if they don’t know why.
He steps in, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off his body and the weight of his stare creeping up my spine. “Listen, I don’t know how well we knew each other—if at all—but I wanna change that.”
“What makes you think I’m interested in changing anything?” I say, turning to face him fully.
I can see it in his eyes. He thinks I’m just another girl desperate for his attention, someone new he can fuck and forget.
Let him believe that.
Let him chase the bait.
He grins, cocky as hell. “You think I don’t know what a woman looks like when she’s imagining all the ways I’ll make her scream?”
Damn him and my useless vagina. This motherfucker’s got me barely holding my shit together.
“I guess I could spare you twenty minutes. You’re not exactly hard to look at, but let’s be clear—no strings, no sweet talk, no pretending this is anything but what it is. You’ll get your hands on me only if I let you. And when we’re done, that’s it.”
He throws his head back and laughs, that rough, filthy sound that’s way too beautiful for someone so toxic. “Are you always this charming?”
I want to hate it. I want to hate everything about him.
“I’m not here to charm you.”
“Fine,” he says, stepping closer again and invading my space. “We’ll do this your way.”
God, he’s such a fucking douchebag.A gorgeous, arrogant, unbearably tempting douchebag.
I’m going to have to put this whole shitshow in next year’s letter.
I write to Phoenix every Halloween. It’s unhealthy, I know, but I keep going until my hand cramps and my eyes sting, pouring out all the rage, hurt, and twisted longing I spend the other three hundred and sixty-four days pretending doesn't exist. Those words are buried deep in pages, never meant for anyone’s eyes. I haven’t even told Lianna about them.
“Do you do this often?” I ask.
“Meet beautiful women and promise to fuck them so hard they’re begging for round two before they can catch their breath?” He grins down at me like something carved straight out of hell. “Yeah, and I always deliver.”
I lift my chin, staring up at the fuckboy in front of me. “Guess we’ll see if you’re as good as you think you are.”
Asshole.
“You got a room here?” he asks, and when I nod, his hand finds the small of my back.
My skin flares beneath his palm, a wildfire of hate, want, and the phantom ache of lost love burning through my veins. It’s a sick, tangled mess that makes me want to lean into his touch and shove him away all at once, yet I let him lead me anyway because this is exactly what I came here for.
We walk in silence toward the elevator. Inside, the motor groans to life, and I swear the walls are closing in around me. I’m not pretending this won’t tear me apart. I know exactly what I’m about to do—crack open scars I’ve spent a decade trying to forget, wounds that never really healed because I kept picking at them every time I wrote those fucking letters. But I need this.
The elevator doors slide open with a soft ding, and I movedown the hallway, letting the silence stretch between us. At my door, I turn and press my back against it, blocking his way. His gaze drops straight to my mouth, and the twist in my stomach isn’t fear—it’s power.
“I have one rule,” I say, my voice cold despite the slight tremor buried deep beneath it. “I don’t kiss.”
He closes the distance, his body crowding mine against the door until there’s nowhere left to go. His breath ghosts across my ear, sending unwanted shivers down my spine. “Good. Neither do I.”
His scent blankets me, making me crave him in a way I swore to myself I never would again. It’s screwing with my head—tugging me back and forth between the girl who once loved him and the woman who wants to watch him fall to his knees.
“I have a rule of my own…”
