Page 71 of Wreck Me

“Aim’s a little off.”

“Not at all,” she said, grinning at the positioning of the blade three quarters of the way down the target. “If it was a human target, that would be right through the balls.”

“Damn, that’s vicious.”

“I know,” she said, proudly.

“Got some creative visualization going on there?”

“Definitely.”

“You really want to hurt the cock that gave you so much pleasure?”

“Don’t flatter yourself—in any respect there.”

“So, it’s not me then?”

“Nope.”

“Who?”

Her features hardened. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It obviously does, or you wouldn’t be having an emotional reaction. I mean, impaling said person in the balls, even imaginary, is a hell of a thing, a definitive and brutal statement at that.”

She stepped up to me, her gaze heated with animosity, no doubt. But there was also something akin to arousal there too. I might not be the best with deciphering—or feeling—my own emotions, but I could sure as fuck read them well in others. It was a skill I’d learned well, a necessary defense that had served me well.

It had me smirking, which worked as I wanted when she registered it and it had her moving even closer and getting right up in my space.

“I can replicate that knife through the balls thing if you like. You know, if you keep up this infuriating pushing bullshit of yours and don’t read the room as to when to back off.”

“Hmm,” I said, moving closer until my chest pushed against her soft breasts. “That might be just outside my roughness during fucking tolerance.”

Amusement danced in her eyes at my response. “Just outside it?”

“Yeah.”

She startled me then as she grasped my belt and jerked me to her. “How about a knee to the dick instead?”

“So many violent threats. Is that your way of admitting that you’re into me?”

“You’re a fucking psycho.”

“Mmm, beautiful, I think you like that about me.” I leaned in and brushed my lips over her throat, relishing the little gasp that escaped her. “In fact, it calls to you, doesn’t it?”

“Bastian!”

I jolted at the sound of that voice.

It had me pulling back from her with a hiss as I registered the command in it.

She spun around as I looked out to see Caleb standing in the clearing a few feet away, one hand shoved into his jacket, the other holding a cigarette.

He was affecting a casual stance, but the look he fixed me with was anything but.

Fucker.

He was telling me to back off. Closer to ordering, really.

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