Ruin & Rule

My skin prickled as he growled, “I will have my vengeance. I will find my peace. I will ruin those motherfuckers and hope to God I will be free.”

The words were arrows, raining around me, piercing deep into my soul.

“I will have my vengeance. I will find my peace. I will ruin those motherfuckers and hope to God I will be free.”

Every hair follicle stood on end. The words weren’t a promise or a prayer. They were an obsession. A consuming, passionate obsession that had kidnapped his entire existence.

I couldn’t watch anymore as Kill reverently placed the item back in the drawer and clutched his gun. “It’s almost time,” he murmured. “Almost time to do to them what they did to me.” His tone echoed with revenge and hate.

I turned tail and ran.

Kill found me half-dressed.

Wearing his usual black T-shirt and jeans, he whispered with energy.

I’d bolted and was determined to be fortified and brave when he came for me with a gun drawn and broken promises trailing behind him.

Stalking into the room he’d given me the first night, his eyes locked on my bra and the denim skirt I’d just pulled over my hips. “What are you doing in here? I left you in my room.”

I faced away, hating the chill in his eyes and the lies corrupting the air between us. I couldn’t look at him without demanding to know how he could fuck me, all while knowing he meant to get rid of me soon.

So much for time. So much for waiting until I could tell him the story of my scars and ink.

“This is the room you locked me in. I’m sorry for taking up your bed all night.” Plucking a white T-shirt from the store bag, I muttered, “You obviously couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping beside me, seeing as you never came back.”

He strode toward me, planting his large hands on my shoulders, and jerking me to face him. The gun I’d seen in his office had disappeared. “What the hell are you doing?”

I narrowed my eyes. “What am I doing? I could ask the same about you!”

His lips opened, then snapped together. Anger rolled off him. “We fucked. There was nothing more to it. As impersonal as—”

“Strangers. Don’t worry. I get it.” Rolling my shoulders, I broke his hold and moved toward the bathroom. The door had a lock on it and I fully intended to use it. The way my body jittered and tongue wanted to spew obscenities, it was best for both of us to have some distance.

My hand reached for the doorknob but an arm lassoed around my waist, pulling me against hot, strong muscles. “Did I say you could walk away?”

Did I say you could sell me?

I breathed hard through my nose, swallowing my retorts. “Let me go.”

“No.”

I squirmed, wishing I was stronger. I briefly entertained the idea of spinning around and kneeing him in the groin, but that would only make him furious. I had no way of winning. Letting the fight siphon from my limbs, I said listlessly, “I overheard you.”

He froze. “You were spying on me?”

“No. I came to say good morning…” And to tell you how much I enjoyed last night even though you have issues.

“Don’t act surprised. You knew what your fate entailed. Just because my cock has been inside you doesn’t mean you’re free.” His breathing turned harsh as his fingers brushed away red strands sticking to my neck. “I allowed myself one taste. I’ve been transparent right from the start. Don’t—”

I laughed, twisting quickly in his arms to stare fiercely into his green eyes. “You’ve been transparent? Shit, I’d hate to see you when you’re being obtuse. You fucked me. I get that, and I understand you’re hurting for something I can’t help with, but you said you wouldn’t—”

“I’m hurting? What the fuck makes you say that?” His face glowered as his lips thinned.

I rolled my eyes. His ignorance or sheer-minded determination not to acknowledge how heavily he was dictated by his past had surpassed my threshold of limits. “Admit it. You’re in love with a ghost, and you can’t stomach the thought of ever caring for another woman. You proved it when you stopped me from touching you, from even watching you take me. You’ve got issues, Arthur.”

“Don’t use my name!” His hands lashed out, gripping my hair and walking me backward until I slammed against the wall. Our lips were so close. All I had to do was stand on my tiptoes and kiss him. Lick him. Tease him. See what his rage tasted like beneath all the guilt he carried.

His chest rose and fell against mine, squashing my bra-covered breasts against his T-shirt. Without a word, his knee nudged mine, spreading my legs and settling between them. Subconsciously, he rocked against me.

My anger twisted into something sparking with red swirling passion.

“What the fuck are you doing to me?” he growled, his eyes piercing mine. My heart flurried like a blizzard, glittering with ice and snow even as it melted and shot hot blood to my core.

I honestly had no answer. “I have the same question,” I murmured, transfixed on his mouth. My eyes went heavy at the thought of his tongue slinking with mine.

He stopped breathing as the room turned thick with awareness. The same need sprang vicious and consuming and his hips went from rocking to a blatant thrust. I swallowed my moan as his erection bruised my pussy.

“I have to go,” he murmured. “Business.”

“To organize the transaction to get rid of me, you mean.” I tried so damn hard to keep the fear from my voice but failed.