“I will.” He grips my bare thigh, his fingers slinking beneath the hem of my dress. “Jesus, I came so hard I’m still shaking. That was the best head I’ve ever had.”
“The sex will be even better.” I hope, for my sake.
He pulls into my driveway and twists in the seat, looking out the back window. “A car just parked on your curb. I think it’s a…Maserati?”
No, no, no. My entire body stiffens, and my hands ball into fists. He wouldn’t dare show up at my house. Why would he? He has 2,994,463 women in the state of Missouri to manipulate, use, and fuck.
But as I crane my neck and squint at the street, there he is, Trace Womanizer Savoy, rolling out of his Maserati and heading this way.
In a burst of rage, I explode from Jason’s car and charge toward him. “This is private property, you selfish, narcissistic prick! Get back in your car and go unfuck your fucked-up self!”
“You…” His voice crackles the air as his eyes spear the man behind me. “Leave.”
“I don’t want any trouble.” Jason approaches my side, hands up in a calming gesture. “She wants you to go and—”
“I won’t tell you again.” Trace erases the distance between us, his gait thundering with authority, shoulders squared, and arms relaxed at his sides.
“Why are you doing this?” My hands clench and shake with the need to inflict unholy violence. “Haven’t you hurt me enough?”
He slams to a stop a few feet away, his abs contracting inward, as if I punched him. Then he straightens his spine and hardens his eyes. “We need to talk.”
“I don’t care what you think we need to do. I want you out of my fucking sight!” I turn and storm toward the back door. “Come on, Jason.”
“Look, Danni,” Jason says through an exhale, “I don’t want to get in between whatever this is.”
My teeth crash together as I swing around and gape at him.
Standing on the side of the house, he’s locked in some sort of stare-down with Trace. If this is a battle of egos, Jason’s losing spectacularly. As Trace steps forward, Jason stumbles back, shoulders drooping and gaze diverting to the side.
Christ, I really know how to pick ‘em. But I’m not ready to give up. “Jason, I don’t have any business with that man. Are you coming?”
“I…um…”
He’s not coming, because he already came. In my mouth.
The blow job in the car was stupid, stupid, stupid. He got his release, and now he has zero incentive to stick around. Clearly, I’m not worth getting in between whatever this is.
My neck tenses to the point of pain as I march over and whisper harshly in his ear. “I gave you the best head you’ve ever had. You just lost your chance to find out what else I can do.”
“You what?” Trace’s low, deadly growl pounds a warning in my ears.
I have two seconds to lean back before his fist disperses the air and slams into Jason’s face.
“What the—” Jason falls against the bumper of his car, holding his jaw. “Goddammit!”
I gasp, teetering in my heels. The way Trace struck, so swiftly, with such terrifying composure, it’s like he didn’t move at all. It was just a snap of his arm, out and back, without a grunt or hitch in his breath.
“Why did you do that?” I glare at him with awe and horror.
“He’s still here.” Trace shifts his icy eyes to me. “You sucked his dick?”
“Did Marlo suck your dick?”
“No.”
“You poor thing. Is that why you’re here? Hoping I’ll fall on my knees and let you fuck my face because I’m too naive to clue in on how fucking sick you are?”
Jason’s car door slams shut, and the engine turns over. I don’t blame him for getting the hell out of Crazytown, but the tears well up anyway, searing my sinuses with rejection and humiliation.
As he throws it in reverse, I check my wristlet to make sure I didn’t leave anything in his car. Then he drives away without so much as a glance in my direction.
“Well done, Trace.” I dig out my house key with trembling fingers. “I commend you on your ability to chase another man from my home. That wasn’t predictable at all.” Turning away, I head toward the back door with my middle finger in the air. “Consider this my two-weeks notice.”
I don’t hear footsteps behind me as I unlock the deadbolt, and for a stupid moment, I think he’s still standing where I left him.
Until my scalp tingles. I hurriedly shove the door open. Too late.
A hand covers my mouth, an arm hooks around my waist, and my feet lose purchase with the ground. The wristlet falls to the floor as I kick and swing my elbows, pulse spiking, chest heaving, my screams frantic and muffled.