Page 7 of Devil's Plaything

His stare darkens as he grins, daring to take another one. That right there is why my damn pussy quivers. Those eyes of his. That grin. The fact that I’ve been forbidden from seeing him again. It’s been two weeks and I haven’t forgotten how his dick feels inside of me.

“I guess you’re that type,” I say, staring right at him.

“What type is that, sweetheart?”

“The type that has zero respect for others.”

I move my plate further away from him, which of course, doesn’t stop him.

“If you mean I don’t give a shit, you’d be right.”

I look over at him, studying those dark eyes of his. It’s almost scary how there’s no emotion there but then I see it. This flicker of…something…I don’t know what. But there’s definitely something there. Something I don’t think anyone else sees in him. Instead of calling him on it, I let it go. I hold my burger over to him and he grins before he takes a huge bite, nipping my finger in the process.

He’s a bad guy. He’s a bad guy.

I’ve been warned. I know the things he’s done. He tried to kill Lizzie. He shot my cousin. He is a bad guy.

Damn, the bad guys are fun, though.

He licks his lips, catching the stray drop of ketchup, and I almost kiss him. Almost. Pulling back, I try to get my shit together. He’s a temptation and I don’t allow myself to be controlled by temptation. I don’t allow myself to be controlled, period.

“I guess you’re that type,” he says, mocking my words.

“What type is that, sweetheart?” I dish it right back to him.

“The type that teases a man until he’s as hard as stone.”

The bulge in his jeans is evident, outlining his cock. I can even see his piercing.

“A tease is someone who doesn’t deliver. Who makes a man hard and leaves him to jack off in the shower,” I say and cup his dick. “I’m not a tease.”

11

Zeke

I sit up on the side of the bed, lighting a cigarette. Cleo is already up and getting dressed. No snuggling. No spooning. I don’t have an issue with that. We’re both getting what we want. No need to complicate things.

“So, what’s your deal?” I ask as she pulls her jeans up. “You fucking the guy at the strip club and Nitro, too?”

“Guess I just added you to my roster.”

I stand, walking over to her. Her gaze flickers down to my half-hard cock, then back to my face. I exhale and she doesn’t flinch at the smoke or when I wrap my fingers around her throat. She smiles.

“Long as I’m at the top of the fucking roster.”

“Ooh, the jealous type. I like it.”

This girl is seriously deranged. I like that. I lick the curve of her neck.

“What’s your beef with Nitro? I hear you shot him.”

I laugh, tossing my cigarette over to the ashtray. “Too bad it wasn’t fatal.”

She traces the scar on my abdomen. “Why?”

“He deserved it.”

“Okay, that’s a story you’ll have to tell me.”

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