He bunched his jaw, the vein at his temple pulsing, his expression getting more murderous by the second. "Don't joke about shit like that."
"I went to a shrink for months, but the bottom line is this: at some point, preferably sooner rather than later, you need to stop wallowing in the unfairness of whatever shit happened to you, bite the bullet, and get on with your life. End of story. It's either that or drinking or taking drugs to dull everything. Life is unfair, and you have to get used to it. Stop being a victim and feeling sorry for yourself is a good start."
"Do you have any clue as to his whereabouts?" he asked, undressing. Then he lay beside her. "Lose the clothes, Goth girl."
She shook her head, unclasping her mangled skirt and getting rid of her shoes. "He fled the country. Rich people have their own kind of justice. I'm sure you're familiar with it."
His mood had taken a drastic nosedive, so before he could ask more, she decided to change the subject. "I know big kingpins don't wait around in the hallway, but next time you should consider ringing the bell. Or turning the lights on. You were lucky I was the one who found you. Ramona doesn't take kindly to intruders."
"I bet she doesn't. According to my intel, she was actually a linebacker before she started hormone treatment."
According to his intel?
Taken aback, she frowned and opened her mouth, but he derailed her.
"What were you planning to do with those?" he asked, motioning to the weapons on the floor of the living room. "Spray me and then stab me?"
She shrugged. "I got a bit spooked. I've had the feeling lately that I'm being followed."
"Because you are," he conceded. "Being followed, I mean."
"What?" she recoiled.
"I needed to make sure nothing happened to you. You've had a tail on you these past few weeks. Not a great one, if you've noticed it. Although you do have that sixth sense."
She stared at him, not believing what she was hearing. Getting pissed by the second. Watching him lie there, relaxed and at ease-propped on an elbow, speaking matter-of-factly about stalking her, huge hard-on on top of everything else-wasn't helping squat. She rolled up on her knees to face him off. "Fuck my sixth sense, Escobar! What gives you the right to follow me around?"
His eyes narrowed. "There was a hit on me. It failed, mainly because of you. Do you think no one was interested in learning why? You're wrong. They're very interested. I need to keep you safe. The detail is for your benefit."
Her tone was dry. "What? Should I be grateful to you for it?"
"Well, that's an idea."
She snorted. Unbelievable. "Yeah, right. Didn't you think about warning me?"
"Didn't want to spook you."
"Sure, because the alternative is so much better. I've been freaking out for the last week, buddy."
"Not my intention. You were not supposed to notice them."
And they were back to square one. "So you had me followed and broke into my place. How many more liberties are you going to take, exactly?" She didn't need another psychopath watching her every move, making decisions for her.
She was about to storm out of bed when the bastard pulled at her ankle and suddenly she was swept off her knees and onto her back. He didn't crowd her or pin her down in any way, just spread her legs, his grip gentle but unbreakable. "Many. Let's start with one I've had in mind since that first night."
"Hey, what-"
He didn't wait for her to finish, but leaned over and took an unhurried lick from her entrance up to her clit, the sudden pressure making her jump. "Look at you. Soaking wet. Red and puffy from taking my cock. Begging to be soothed by my tongue. You're my first pierced pussy. Can't wait to play with it."
"But-"
"I know. No pinning down. Don't worry. You can use your arms as much as you want-slap me, yank at my hair if you like-although I doubt it will be to fight me off."
And damn him, it wasn't. She might have been his first pierced pussy, but the bastard knew frigging well how to go about it. Opening her thighs wide, he licked her sensitive folds, raking his teeth over the bare skin. Eating at her. Pulling at her piercings and tormenting her clit.
"I'm angry at you. And we were in the middle of a fight," she said, resisting the pleasure, totally hating that she was melting into a pool of goop because of his ministrations.
"Angry sex is the best sex. And that was not a fight, just a slight difference of opinion." He pulled at her corset, her boobs spilling out, and cupped her breasts harshly, pinching her nipples while he impaled her core with his tongue. She cried out, her womb convulsing at the sharp sensation.