Page 69 of Wreck Me

She was just a new variable thrown into the equation, complicating it.

Just until I sorted it out, just until things settled.

Fuck.

I turned away and strode out of the mansion.

I needed to get my head on straight.

All misses.

Fucking misses!

Me.

I didn’t miss.

I just didn’t.

But there it was, the undeniable proof right here as I stared at the wooden targets in the distance and all my throwing knives missing the mark in every single one.

Sure, I’d still hit the actual two-by-fours, but I hadn’t hit dead on, which was a big deal for me.

“So, this is how you spend your downtime, huh?”

I jolted, so caught up in this unlikely turn of events—just like so much lately, it seemed—that I hadn’t even felt the fucking approach.

That sultry voice—or maybe I was just interpreting it that way—rolled through me and had my cock jerking in my jeans just like that.

Reacting from the sound of her voice now? Really?

I sucked in a breath and turned around.

And she stepped back right away.

“What’s wrong?”

She gestured to my right hand.

I looked to see that I was spinning one of my throwing knives around in a rather threatening manner. Coupled with the pissed look I was sure I was wearing on my face, given my mood that I just couldn’t seem to get a handle on for the first time in a hell of a long time, I probably looked like I was going in for the kill or something.

“Is that how you intend to settle things between us?”

“No,” I said, sliding the knife into the holster strapped to my leg. “I just had it primed, that’s all.”

I could see her inclination to ask more in a bid to figure out how I was gonna settle things. But she didn’t speak to it, deciding against it for some reason.

She folded her arms across her chest, inadvertently pushing her succulent breasts front and center in the black lacy tank she had on, the thing sheer up the sides and giving the glimpse of a vibrant-blue bra beneath when she moved slightly and that blue leather jacket of hers shifted. She had a pair of motocross pants on this time and they were basically the inverse of the jacket, black with embellishments like the jacket, matching the blue, with a little silver thrown in too. Her hair was in a half-up, half-down style, loose curls cascading about her pretty face.

“You and blue… it’s really a thing, isn’t it?” I commented idly.

“How about you with that Lexus?”

“It’s Nightfall Mica.” I shrugged. “I just wanted the opposite of my brother’s ride.”

“Hmm, well blue versus red, yeah, that counts as opposite. It works for you too.”

“Yeah?”

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