Page 7 of Dance of Defiance
Val pouts. “Aww, don’t get pissy, gorgeous. I’m sure your invitation just got lost in the mail.”
He winks and blows me an air kiss. My shoulders stiffen and my mouth twists.
“I’m not gay.”
I don’t mean to say it, but it just falls out, like a defense mechanism.
Val smirks. “Okay?”
“I’m not.”
“Yeah, Isaidokay.”
“So get off me, motherfucker,” I spit.
His grin widens. “Hold up, do you think I’m pinning you to the ground right now as aforeplaything?”
You have a sickness. A corruption. Something that needs to be cut out of you…
“You’re flirting with me. It needs to stop.”
He snorts, shaking his head. “Fuck me. Ifthisis your idea of flirting, where have you been all my?—”
“Val,” I snap.
“Mmm, yeah, say my name, gorgeous.”
I lash out, coiling my muscles and shoving himhard. But just as I get an arm free, he’s grabbing that wrist again and shoving it back down, where it was before. We’ve shifted so that he’s further up my torso now, sitting on my sternum, his body folded as he leans down close to my face.
“Bad boy,” he murmurs quietly.
That fucking zapping sensation picks up speed, pulsing and flickering like wildfire or lightning through my body as I grit my teeth.
He shifts, and another sound escapes my mouth.
“And that?” he purrs.
“You’re…” I can actually feel my lungs squeezing this time. “You’re choking me.”
“Kinky,” he murmurs. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even blink. He just looks down at me with a mix of predatory hunger and dark curiosity.
For a hot second, I wonder if I’vemassivelymisjudged this guy. I mean, I obviously have, dismissing him as Evelina’s little ballet buddy for the last few years when clearly he’s a lot more than that, not to mention much stronger than I ever dreamed.
But suddenly, I’m also wondering if I’ve missed the fact that Val Bancroft could well be a fucking psycho. Because right now, he’slooking at me like he can’t decide if he wants to try to kill me or possible flay me open to see what’s inside…
…Or maybe do something else.
No.
“Val…”
With a slow sigh, he gradually sits up a little, easing his weight off my sternum and allowing my chest to rise with my breath again. But before I can get used to it, or hope it means he’s getting up, he starts to slide lower.
His knees stay on either side of my body as he slides down, pushing them down my ribs and then my hips. He never lets go of my wrists, and suddenly he’s basically lying on top of me, pinning me down with his bulk, still keeping my arms on the ground.
We’re barely inches apart.
Eye to eye.
