Page 106 of Vicious Little Games

“Whatever,” she says without the usual bite and a tiny grin because she likes my answer even if she won’t admit it.

God, she’s so damn stubborn. And I love that about her.

My lips capture hers, kissing Cass hard. When I pull back, still gripping her hair, I ask, “Your turn. What are your kinks, Cassie? Besides sneaking around with stupid men behind your father’s back?”

“That is not a…I don't get off on that,” she huffs, not the least bit convincing. I lift a single eyebrow ready to challenge that statement. “Well, maybe a little,” she finally admits.

“Of course, you do. What else do you get off on?

“I guess you’re pretty hot in a suit, especially when you're being a badass.”

“Me? I’m a badass in a suit? I thought you said I was a nice guy.” Now my grin is probably bigger than any of the ones on a toothpaste commercial, flashing the majority of my teeth since that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received.

“You may try to be a nice guy most of the time, but you’re not. Not really. You were a dick to the rat when you robbed her. You have killed two men, and would’ve killed your mom’s boyfriend so I guess you’re sort of a badass…”

“Ah, so hybristophilia is your thing,” I tease her.

Brow creasing, Cass asks, “What the fuck is hybristophilia?”

“Being attracted to or aroused by hearing about or watching a crime take place.”

“That's what that is?” she asks in surprise. “I can’t believe that’s even a thing. Is hybristophilia like...normal?”

I nod, happy that those things turn her on. “Oh, yeah. It's very normal for women, apparently.” I slide my free hand down her bare back to cup her ass. “Something about evolutionary, primitive instincts women have toward powerful, dangerous, dominant men. The type of men who prove to women with their criminal behavior that they’ll be able to protect them and their offspring.” I lift her off her foot, and Cass automatically wraps her long legs around my waist and hooks her arms around my neck. I swear we fit together perfectly. We have since that day she jumped me in the pool. “Hybristophilia is probably why the masked man is so popular breaking in people’s homes.”

“Are you fucking with me?” Cass asks when we’re face to face, our bodies nearly entirely pressed together.

“No, I’m not fucking with you. It's actually a legit thing. Look it up.”

“Trust me, I am not aroused by your criminal behavior because I think it in any way proves that you could protect me or our kid,” she huffs.

God, the words “our kid” coming out of Cass’s mouth makes me rock hard, which is ridiculous. Pushing those idiotic thoughts aside, I lay her down on the bed and hover above her.

“Maybe it's more of a subconscious thing,” I suggest.

“Doubtful.”

“So, then why do you want me, Cassie?” I thrust my hardness between her legs, enjoying the way it makes her squirm.

“I-I don't know. Maybe you’re right about how you're supposedly forbidden.” Shoving her fingers through the sides of my hair, she gives it an impatient tug, wanting me to kiss her again. When I don’t budge, she sighs. “And I guess you're attractive enough.”

“What about me do you find attractive?”

“What about me do you find attractive? You go first.”

“Fine.” Leaning back, I examine the abundance of beauty before me while sliding my palm up her thigh. From the freckles scattered over her nose and cheeks to the cute ones hiding along her shoulder and even a few on her arms, they’re like tiny kisses from the sun, because not even it could resist touching her. “Every fucking thing about you is attractive to me.”

Cass scoffs. “That was a cop out response. Every woman has boobs and a pussy.”

“I wasn’t even looking at your boobs or pussy,” I tell her honestly. “But yes, you're also incredibly sexy. Oh, and feisty. I like that you have your own opinions and don't back down no matter what. You're beautiful, would be even if you were bald. But with all that thick, wavy red hair, it makes my dick so hard to see it, touch it, smell it.”

“Sounds like someone also has a hair kink,” she replies with a smirk.

“No shit.” I don’t bother denying it. I just reach for a strand to curl it around my finger. If only convincing Cass to tell our parents about us was that easy.

“Why my hair?” she asks.

“Because it's impossible to see it and not think about wrapping the long red strands around my fist and pulling it when I'm fucking you from behind.”

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