Page 21 of Unhinged

“I’m thinking I want to know what you’re thinking,” I respond, mirroring her question.

“You,” she utters finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m thinking about you.”

“And what exactly about me are you thinking?”

Her cheeks flush again. “That I’d like to know more about you.”

“And I, you, little bird.” I clench my jaw. “Come here.”

She stands and walks toward me, gasping as I grab her hand and lift her onto my lap, forcing her to straddle me. “Taren,” she breathes my name.

“Alice,” I tease.

Her eyes flicker shut, and her hips move softly, feeling the hardness of my erection beneath her. “Am I insane?”

“We’re all mad here, little bird.” I tease my hand up the front of her dress, knowing I picked well. She looks stunning. And then I wrap my hand around her throat, enjoying how it fits perfectly. As if they made this woman for me. “I’m mad to yearn for you.”

Her sky-blue eyes open and meet mine. “Yearn for me?”

He nods. “Yes, with an intensity that threatens to consume me,” I murmur, my voice so low I can barely hear it over the hum of the engines. My fingers trace the curve of my little bird’s throat. “The Red Queen watches and waits.”

Her brow furrows in confusion. “What?”

I smile at her. “I’ll reveal all in time.”

My words irritate her as she exhales a deep breath. “You’re the most confusing man I’ve ever met.”

I grab her hips and squeeze. “And how many men have you met?” The dark vines of jealousy twist around my heart, weaving their way into my bloodstream. I don’t want to think of Alice ever even talking to another man, no matter that it was before we met.

She wets her lips. “A few.”

I grab her hair and yank it hard. “How many have been inside you?”

Her throat bobs, and tears fill her eyes, a few stray ones escaping down her cheek. “Two by choice.”

“By choice?” I release her hair, cupping her chin. “And not by choice?”

She shakes her head, the tears coming faster now. “One,” she breathes.

Red-hot, possessive anger floods me with an intensity that threatens to tear me apart. The thought of my bird being broken by someone against her will drives me insane. And they say I’m already fucking mad. What I’d give to bathe in his blood.

I growl, shaking my head. “Name.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“Give me the bastard’s name.”

She shudders, her body so small and fragile on my lap. “Why?”

“Little bird, don’t deny me. You won’t like what happens if you do.”

She bites her inner cheek. “His name is Michael Lovell.” Her throat bobs. “He’s a professor at the university I attend.”

My brow furrows. “He still is?”

She nods. “Yes.”

“Why the fuck isn’t he in jail?”

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