She pulled back
abruptly and whisked the stack of paper off my desk. She slapped one of the
flyers on my chest and walked back toward the door like that was the end of
I was getting real sick and tired of her discombobulating me like that. As a
jail guard and now warden, I was used to people listening to me. I should be
ending the conversation. Other people should jump to do my bidding. This role
reversal was like one of those plastic tags on brand-new clothing that you
accidentally leave in the fabric, causing it to scrape against your skin and
lead to all kinds of irritation.
I hopped out of my chair and followed her, intent on putting my foot down like
a man, while also placating her so she didn’t run to our fellow citizens and
complain about me. I was dancing a fine line, but I was willing to two-step if
for no other reason than to make sure Lucille didn’t get away with blackmail.
Not on my watch.
As I stalked after her, I glanced down at the flyer, doing a double take when I
saw the picture right smack dab in the center of the piece of paper.
“Come donate to the Coastal Fertility Bank” in all capital letters, centered
over a picture of a specimen cup. But upon closer scrutiny, it wasn’t just any
specimen cup. It was my specimen cup. With my goddamn name on it for all the
world to see.
My feet halted their movement. Every single cell in my body flared to life with
a stress signal. A state of emergency was declared inside my body, flooding my
vision with a bright haze of red. My fingers tingled.
I was going to kill her.
The paper started to shake. Right before I crumpled it into my fist and tossed
it to the ground. I looked up at her over by the door, seeing an entire ream of
papers in her hand, all printed with my specimen cup front and center.
She cocked a hip and even with a level of anger I hadn’t felt in a very long
time pulsing through my body, I noticed. I noted every little thing about her
from her stiletto heels to the hair on her head that was finally down and so
luscious I wanted to grab hold of it and tug.
“Oops. It’s pretty fuzzy. I’m sure people won’t be able to make out your name.
Besides, I only put them up on a few poles on Brinestone Way so far.”
She wrinkled her pretty little nose and I took a step toward her. Then another.
She’d already put them up?
Her eyes widened a fraction, seeing me advance on her. She waved the flyers
around confidently, like she still had the upper hand. And fuck it all to hell,
I didn’t like that. Not one bit.
Another step closer and some of that confidence faded.
“What are you doing?” Her voice hitched in the middle.
Another step and she backed up quickly.
One final step to put me toe to toe with her and she reared her head back, eyes
wary, cheeks flushed. Her back pressed against my closed door and she couldn’t
run. The devil in me, the one she’d backed into a corner with her blackmailing
schemes, stood up and announced himself the winner of this situation. All I had
to do was show her I wouldn’t be messed with.
I did what every hot-blooded male does when they’re so mad at a woman they
can’t see straight.
I indulged in revenge.
My hand lifted, my fist releasing only long enough to drag my fingers through
her hair and clench again, forcing her head to tip back with my forceful tug.
My arm slid around her waist and in the back of my mind, I memorized the feel
of her body pressed between me and the door. She gasped upon contact and I took
My lips crashed down onto hers, their only mission to subdue and humiliate. My
tongue swiped a taste of her lips and all hell broke loose. The red alert
inside my body changed in an instant. Instead of wanting to eliminate her, I
wanted to consume her right then and there so she’d always be a part of me. I
wanted to breathe the same air and coexist in the same space as her body, just
so I never had to let go of her silky skin. She fit perfectly against me, her
curves smashed against my chest, her lips perfectly pliant as I explored.
A groan rent the air and I feared it was mine.
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