Page 25 of Ferocious Nightmare

Eight

I hated him.

He was even barely touching me but I was still coming.

How the hell did he know how to play me so well? I really didn't know but it was irritating as hell.

It had been a week, and every day he played these games, making me make myself come over and over. It was cheating, really.

And still, he didn’t give in to the temptation to make me come, no matter how much I flaunted myself around him.

And this morning, I woke up to an empty space next to me and a beep from my phone.

When I opened the message, my jaw had slacked.

The first thing that caught my eye was a flash of purple. It took me seconds to realize what was happening, but the sounds of Coulter’s soft but deep, guttural groan had me inhaling a sharp breath.

That asshat. Dickwad. Punta de madre. Son of a bitch, I was going to kill him.

The dick had stolen my panties and was jacking off with them.

Right. Next. To me.

He was fucking his hand with my panties, in the bed, while I was sleeping.

Then, he had the gall to Send. Me. The. Video.

And goddamn it, was it sexy!

I was angry and turned on. Ready to kick some ass. I growled out, yanking on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Then I stomped over to the door and flung it open. "You. Come here."

Dante turned around, taking in my clothes with a cocky grin. "Your time of the month?"

"No," I snarled. "I don't need to bleed to be a bitch." I flashed him a feral grin. "But I'd be more than happy to see how bitchy you get when your dick bleeds.”

“No, thank you.” He looked paler than a few seconds ago, and he slowly took two steps back.

“Well?” I stared at him, opening the door wider. “Are you going to come in, or just stand there, gawking at me like a pussy?”

His mouth snapped shut, his face darkening, but he didn’t say anything as he entered the room, except to grumble under his breath. "Christ."

“Christ isn’t here today, it’s just me.” I flopped down on the floor beside my bed, patting the carpet next to me, “You need a girlfriend, Dante. Then you'd know better than to blame a girl for having the most natural thing in the world." My feral grin was still in place. "But good to know you're up to getting me tampons when I need them."

He didn't answer me, which was severely disappointing. I was so ready for a verbal boxing match this morning, and I needed a punching bag. However, he was sitting crisscross, looking uncomfortable, and that was enough for me for the moment.

"Now, if you’re done being a misogynist,” I said, leaning over to grab my iPad that was under the bed, noticing that he was decidedly not looking at my boobs, “I need some information, and you're going to give it to me."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Have you asked Coulter yet? I'm sure he'd be--"

"Coulter isn't here. So I'm asking you. Besides," I sniffed, "you'll know this kind of stuff better than he would."

"I doubt it," he grunted, clearly uneasy with sharing information with me.

"Mmm," I stared him down, then jumped to my feet, not looking back as I padded out of the room.

“Aster!” Grunting in frustration, he jumped to his feet, racing after me. “Where are you going?"

“To talk to David," I threw over my shoulder, not looking back to gauge his reaction.

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