Page 85 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

I watch Briar whisper something against his ear, and I nearly throw my empty soda can at the idiot’s head.

She rolls her eyes at whatever he's saying and giggles. My eyes narrow at her, noticing that her body isn't even facing him but at me.

She's not even paying any attention to you, asshole.

The idiot has the nerve to lean his face closer to hers, and she teasingly slaps his chest. Giggling.

Okay, fuck this.

I didn’t even want to come here in the first place.

I get up from the chair, making sure not to look in her direction. I walk to the kitchen and find Oscar and Natalie whispering. As soon as they hear me coming, they stop. When they realize it's me, they fully relax.

“Oh, good. It’s just you,” Natalie sighs before turning to Oscar. “How could we get rid of everyone else? Call Dad and have one of his men pretend to be a cop?”

Oscar raises a brow. “That’s not a bad idea. It’ll scare them, and it won't hurt to have backup just in case.”

“I need to go to the bathroom,” I blurt out.

“Up the stairs and the last door on the left,” Oscar says distractedly, keeping his eyes on Natalie.

I thank him and follow his directions. I just want to leave this spontaneous party. A part of me feels like I should stay to help Oscar get rid of the riffraffs, but I don't want to be anywhere near that irritating woman. Fucking walking migraine.

She seriously thinks she could barge into my life and — what the fuck!

The moment I step inside the bathroom, something slams into my back forcefully, propelling me forward. I stagger inside, barely managing to keep my balance, before swiftly turning around to ask the fucker what his problem is.

Only it isn’t a guy. A chill runs down my spine at the sight of her. Her features contort with unmistakable anger and frustration as she advances toward me with determined strides.

"Briar?" My reflexes kick in, and I instinctively raise my hands in front of me. “What’s wrong—”

“Shut the fuck up,” She snaps before seizing my lips with hers in a sudden, aggressive kiss.

I let out a sharp breath as my back slams against the wall. A groan releases my lips as she trails to my neck and nips on my Adam’s apple before focusing back on my lips.

“Briar—” I try to speak but can barely think what to say.

My head is too foggy with lust, excitement, and… Fuck.

I’m going crazy, aren’t I? I can’t possibly be missing this.

“I said…” She whispers harshly, though her touch is anything but harsh.

As her lips fervently claim mine, her hands explore every inch of me with deliberate slowness. From tracing my abs to caressing my shoulders, arms, and chest, it’s as if she wants to commit every detail of me to memory.

“Shut up, Rurik.” She then pauses, pulling back only slightly so our lips barely touch. “Unless you’re going to tell me that you miss me?”

I scoff, lying through my teeth. “No.”

She lifts a defiant brow, her expression twisting into a wicked smirk, the fury in her gaze melting into mischief.

“Oh?” She mockingly asks.

I open my mouth to lie some more, trying to gain back some control, when I feel her hand wrap around my hardening dick. To my absolute fucking horror, my eyes roll to the back of my skull, and an unrestrained groan escapes my lips.

Shit.

I open my eyes and glare down at her, only to be greeted by a shit-eating grin from this beautiful monster. Her hand continues to stroke me and fuck me… I jerk myself plenty of times, but when she touches me?

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