Page 108 of Sweet Animosity

“Not until you tell me what the fuck you were thinking by cloning my phone.”

He leaned his forearm against the roof edge of the car as he gripped the top of the passenger door, caging me in. Then, leaning down, he put his face close to mine. “I was thinking you’re mine now, and I want to know where you are and who you’re talking to every minute of every fucking day.”

I blinked as I pushed back against the hard, warm metal of the car. “Do you have even the slightest idea how terrifyingly psychopathic that sounds?”

“Yes. Which is why you shouldn’t piss me off any further and get into the fucking car.”

So much for hoping last night was just a fever dream.

I’d hoped that in the morning things would be more rational and clearer between us. At night, things can get twisted, especially after a traumatic event. Countless relationships and friendships have been ruined simply because a conversation was had when everyone was just a little too tired, a little too stressed, and a little too over it.

It was like the moon turned us into werewolves, intent on tearing apart our own lives. Only for us to wake up naked in the woods with blood on our chin, praying to God we hadn’t completely killed everything we loved and held dear in the night.

I stared at Var’s feral expression as his dark eyes glinted with anger and intent.

My hand went to my throat as if I could feel the press of his sharp canine teeth against my flesh.

Apparently, not all werewolves disappear in the sunlight.

“I’m getting a new phone.”

“Get in the car, baby.”

My head turned to stare at the shadowed interior of the car. “Are you taking me home?”

“Yes.”

I knew better. “My home?”

“What do you think?”

“But…”

“I’m counting to three, Vivian. If you are not in that seat by the time I’m finished, I’m taking my belt off and bending you over the hood.”

“You wouldn’t dare?—”

“One.”

CHAPTER 37

VIVIAN

My arms were crossed tightly over my middle as I stared out the passenger window. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

At three, he’d reached for his belt buckle. Since I hadn’t thought he’d hesitate to shoot anyone who tried to intervene if I called for help, I’d given in and got in the car.

He adjusted his grip on the leather steering wheel. “I do.”

I huffed as I continued to avoid looking at him. “Just so we’re clear.”

After a long silence, I drew up the courage and asked, “Could you please just take me to my home? I need a shower and my own clothes.”

“I have a great shower at my place.” He then glanced from the road to me and winked. “As I’m sure you remember.”

My cheeks heated at the memory of what we did in his shower.

Pulling my hair forward over my shoulder so he couldn’t see my blush, I said, “I need my clothes and before you say it, no, I don’t want you buying me any more from Bloomingdale’s.”

---