Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
She gives me a puzzled expression. “What do you mean? Of course it was to ask questions. What else would I come here for?”
I push her gently against the shoulder, but she doesn’t budge. In fact, her eyes stay glued to mine. Fuck! It’s clear she wants to play hard to get with me, and that only magnifies my darker, more primal needs. I know I’m fucked up. I’ve seen what killing someone can do to you firsthand, but Elyse...she’s sweet, pure. She’s everything that should stay the fuck away from me, yet I want her. Dammit, I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
“Okay, you want to play hard to get?” I sneer, and all the blood in my body seems to pump straight to my cock at her wide-eyed, fearful expression. A week ago, I would’ve hated seeing her look at me like that, but now…it’s something I need her to do. It’s the boundary I need to keep my heart in line and my head where it needs to be.
“No…” She shakes her head in confusion. Those soft brown locks of hers escape from behind her ear, leaving me with an itch to put them back into place. “I mean, yes…” Her cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. “I didn’t come here for sex, Hero. I came here to talk about what happened. About what you were doing that night.”
“If you aren’t here to give me that pretty pussy, then you aren't here for shit.” I lean into her face, making it clear I want something I know she isn’t ready to give. That’ll get her to run.
I take a step back and cross my arms over my chest, smirking down at her like the asshole I am.
She looks broken, sad, then her features change…
“You don’t get to do that, Hero.” She shoves from the bed and gets right in my face, rage painting her adorable features.
I have to force myself not to reach out and touch her, because fuck, do I want to touch her. Her tiny fingers press against my bare chest, sending electric shock waves through me.
“I will not be bullied! I will not let you hide behind some mask of fury.”
Her words are meant to chip away at my mask, the one she knows I’m wearing. But what she doesn’t realize is I’m a master at wearing a mask. Not because I want to be, but because I had to be. I’m stronger, and I’m way fucking better at lying.
I grip her by the wrist firmly, not hard, because truthfully, I want to scare her away, not hurt her. “If you don’t want me to fuck you, you better turn the fuck around and walk your ass out of my house. I don’t want to talk to you about what could’ve been. You fucked that up when you didn’t listen to me. You did this, not me.”
Elyse gives me a doleful expression.
I feel the same emotions she’s showing me, just way down deep inside, buried beneath the pain, beneath the sorrow. The question still lingers. Why the fuck didn’t she just stay here?
Her tongue darts out over her plump bottom lip.
I wonder what she’s going to do next. She shocks the hell out of me when she pulls her hand from my grip and starts undressing. She pulls her shirt off with ease, but her yoga pants are another story. With one working hand, she struggles to pull them down her hips.
I smile smugly, watching her struggle, but deep down in my stomach, I know I won’t be able to follow through on my word.
With pink cheeks, Elyse looks up at me, a shyness in her eyes. “I…” she stutters. “I can’t get them off.” She makes another effort to push them down, seeing as I make no move to help her, but loses her balance halfway through.
I reach out, balancing her without thought, her hot bare skin igniting a fire in my belly. “Are you sure this is what you want? Just mindless sex?”
I watch her visibly swallow, a meek “yes” slips from her lips.
“I won’t be gentle with you. I won’t cuddle you afterwards. I won’t call you. And I won’t give a fuck if you come,” I say the words through clenched teeth, wanting to stab myself in the heart.
“I know,” she whispers, her eyes sad.
Fucking Christ! She’s testing me. She has to be.
I pick her up and throw her onto the bed, peeling her yoga pants the rest of the way off. My mouth waters when I see her cute lace panties. Her chest heaves with every breath she takes, and I feel like such a bastard for doing this to her.
“Roll over,” I order, but she shakes her head no, a defiance in her eyes that has me on the verge of breaking.