Page 24 of Wreck Me

“I know more about you than you realize.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“You do, huh?”

I nodded. “You and Caleb obviously did your due diligence when word got out about the daughter of your mother’s rival coming here to Luxe. You looked into me and thought you delved deep by pulling the name, Onyx. Now you want to use it to get under my skin. Intimidate me. Play with me. Whatever the hell.”

“That’s quite the theory you’ve got there.”

“Well, here’s the thing, whatever you think you know, however you’ve heard that name, I can assure you that I’m not it. Onyx is dead.”

I jerked forward, pushing my weight into him so abruptly that it forced him back with ease. I extricated myself, then spun toward the door. “So, as you can see, there’s nothing more to say where that’s concerned. We’re done here.”

I’d barely even managed to grab the handle when his weight slammed into my back.

And then I felt cold metal at my throat.

I shot a look to my side to see him holding a flip knife there, just shy of piercing my skin.

“Are you crazy? There’s a camera in here. Plus, anyone could burst through this door any second.”

“Crazy? Hmm… perhaps. From certain perspectives. And don’t worry yourself about the camera or the rest. No one will be bothering us.”

He fisted his hand in my hair, wrenching my head back and forcing me to look at him. “You’re not even shaking,” he said, studying me intently. “No sign of fear whatsoever.”

“Put the knife away and end this ridiculousness.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want me to do?”

Before I could answer, he slid the flat of the blade along my cheek, the cool metal skating across my skin, down my throat.

Fuck.

The threat of it, the sensual teasing strokes caused goosebumps in their wake. Not the bad kind either, which would’ve been better—and much easier. No, the stimulating kind, the kind that had a disconcerting tingling sensation erupting, that familiar dark need sparking.

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t think beyond the sensations that I hadn’t felt for a long time.

Those that made me feel alive.

Free.

Those that belonged to that version of me.

That dangerous and depraved me.

“Stop me,” he spoke at my ear, his husky words rolling through me.

I couldn’t.

I couldn’t risk it.

That altercation with his brother had pushed me far enough as it was. Another taste of that violence, that power rush, and it could pull me back to the place I was still fighting to bury far in the past, something that was a work in progress, and really wasn’t being made any easier by this bullshit.

And that was honestly only half of it.

He was calling to that need in me that hadn’t been satiated in way too long.

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