Page 126 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

“Listen. Briar,” I say. “We can both agree that what happened earlier was a mistake. An accident.”

The small smile that was on her face immediately drops. She slowly bookmarks a page she is on, sets the book aside, and climbs off the bed.

“Oh?” She asks lightly, walking up to me. “I agree.”

I froze. “Y-you do?”

“Yeah,” She nods, reaching forward to brush the hairs away from my forehead. “I hate it whenever I accidentally spread my legs open for you, and your dick slips inside me. By accident. Twice.”

“That’s not what I meant, Briar. I’m just having second thoughts about us doing this because—”

“Rurik,” She interrupts me with a sharp tone.

I press my lips tightly together, emotions spreading through me like anger and… Shame? What the hell do I have to be ashamed of? I don’t feel bad that I was the cause of her smile disappearing. I can’t.

“As much as that deep, sexy sound of your voice makes my insides tingle with joy,” Briar continues, trailing her fingers across my throat. “I want you to shut up before you say something stupid.”

I swallow hard, and her eyes flash with something I couldn’t name.

“Like what?” I ask.

“Something that’ll make you run away.”

I scoff. “I’m not running away.”

“So you weren’t going to say shit like,” She puts on a dramatic deep voice. “‘Oh, Briar. The sex was mind-blowing.’” Her fingers trail down to my chest. “‘It was amazing, but we can’t do that again. Even though I begged for you to fuck me, and I gushed out like a fountain—’”

“Why must you talk like that?” I groan, turning away and leaving her room.

She catches up next to me, grinning so smugly that I want to kiss it off her. “Because it’s the truth.”

“I did not beg. But I still don’t think it’s a good idea for us to do this,” I continue, shaking my head. “I just can’t, in good conscience, be okay hanging out with someone who kills for sport.”

“Why not?”

I stop, whirling around to ask, “Are you serious?”

“About you? Of course.”

“Fuck off,” I scoff. I’m feeling irritated that she can joke about something like this. “You’re not even going to deny it? You go on a criminal rampage and shit?”

Her eyes narrow as she crosses her arms. “What I do or don’t do for work was not part of your stupid rules, angel.”

“Work,” I spit out the word as if it tastes like shit. Because that’s what it is. Bullshit.

“You’re being awfully hypocritical, angel.” Briar pokes my chest hard. “You’re giving me shit? Just me? If only you knew how fucking close you are with more dangerous people—” She stops as if she didn’t mean to let herself go on a tangent.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, taking a step closer to her. “If you’re talking about Natalie and Oscar, I don’t know what they do. But I’m starting to get an idea.”

“Are you going to start labeling them as villains too?” Briar questions. “Are you going to approach everyone who labels their job as brave and heroic even though they also kill people? Don’t make me start naming these so-called heroic jobs…”

“Are you seriously comparing yourself to those people and what they do?”

“Of course not,” She scoffs like I’m the ignorant one. “I’m not corrupted enough like some of them.”

I stare at her.

She stares back.

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