Page 15 of Twisted Lies

The smirk comes off his face instantly. “How do you know what my type is?”

“Oh, I know your type,” I reply, and then lowering my voice, so I sound like a dude, “Roll over, girl. Oh, you’re so tight and don’t complain until I’m finished. Oh, ugh, I’m done. One whole minute. I’m the best.” I roll my eyes. “Stop wasting my time, pencil prick.”

Pierce grabs my arm and yanks me against his front. I stumble and hit solid muscles that won’t give. His hand tightens its grip on my arm, and my eyes widen as Pierce’s gaze turns bitter cold. The hallway near the changing room is empty, and maybe if I shout, someone will come. Fuck that. I’m screaming fire, or I’m screwed.

“I like it when you call me names,” he smirks like a wolf in heat, “I like it when you slap me. I like hearing you say no. And when I make you beg for it, it’s going to sound so sweet.”

“Let me go,” I hiss.

Pierce releases my arm without another request, and I’m shocked that it was so easy. Too easy. “So, what’s the catch?” I ask him, glaring.

Only his mouth moves when he laughs. His gaze remains pinned on me. “Getting a rise out of you gets a rise out of me.”

Without thinking, I look down at his crotch, and nothing’s showing. My face flames to boiling hot, and Pierce laughs when he’s tricked me again.

“Before, I couldn’t be bothered to be seen in public with you,” he replies calmly, “but now…”

“Now what?” I demand, hating him even more. “You don’t know who my father is.”

“There’s a lot of speculation.” He lowers his eyes to my chest. “At least I know we’re not related. That’s a kink I’m not into. But, you do look appealing in black. You must own a whip.”

“Why do I bother speaking to you?” I spin around and walk toward the exit.

“Think about it!” he shouts at my retreating back. “Think about the sweaty anger we could release together.”

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