Page 76 of The Revenge Agenda

Rush’s face falls. “That … I …”

“Seven told me.”

“Told you what?” His breath catches. I feel it against my torso.

With a sigh, I turn my hand to show him where my knuckles are still a purplish red. “Let’s just say it’s one thing to touch you without my permission. It’s a whole other ball game when he touches you without yours.”

Rush’s bloodshot eyes go shiny. The hand on my chest strays higher, surer, skimming my neck and brushing my jaw. “I think that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“That makes me furious. Consent shouldn’t be the mark of a good person.”

“No, but putting me first is.” His soft lips brush a kiss across mine. “Stay tonight. Please.”

He’s already found my weakness. Needing me. “I’ll stay.” His face lights up, so I hurry to add, “But only so I can make sure you sleep. Actually sleep. Until at least lunchtime tomorrow, but preferably longer.”

“I’ll let you have your way. This once. But that’s only because I’m really, really tired.”

“Good boy.”

Rush preens. “And there you go making me hard again.”

“I like it way more than I probably should.”

Chapter 22

Rush

I wake up with one leg thrown over a pair of thighs and one arm thrown over a very warm, very bare, very muscular chest.

My head is tight like I’m hungover, body wrung of energy, but I know that scent. Happiness washes through me before I even get my eyes open.

“This is one way to wake up.”

“I’m glad my sacrifice made you happy.”

“Sacrifice?” I look up at Hunter, who sends a devastating smile my way.

“I’ve been awake for hours and need to pee, but every time I try to get out of bed, you snuggle into me tighter.”

“I make no apologies for the me I am when I’m asleep.”

“Good. Make no apologies for when you’re awake either.”

“And that does it! I’m not letting you up for the rest of the day.”

He pries my hands off him, and it’s like taking candy from a baby because that body is definitely my candy. Who the hell knew Hunter looked like that under his suits? Sure, I could tell he probably looked good, but like that? I need to feast on his muscles.

He leaves, keeping my door slightly ajar, and a moment later, Kismet, the squishy-face tabby, pokes his head inside my room.

“All good in here.”

He just stares back.

“In fact, you might want to evacuate to the other side of the house because things are about to get loud.”

“That so?” Hunter’s deep voice has me thinking for one bizarre moment that Kismet is talking back until he steps into view.

Kismet’s fur stands on end, and he lets out a feral hiss before bolting.

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