Page 12 of The Bratty Heir

"So," the stranger purred, pressing Rocco up against the rough brick wall. "What did you have in mind, pretty thing?"

Rocco opened his mouth to respond, but before he could form words, a large hand wrapped around the stranger's throat, yanking him away.

"He's not interested," Victor growled, his voice low and deadly. "Walk away now, and I might let you keep all your teeth."

The stranger's eyes widened in recognition and fear. He held up his hands, backing away slowly. "Hey man, I didn't know he was spoken for. No harm, no foul, right?"

Victor's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Get. Out."

The man didn't need to be told twice. He turned tail and ran, disappearing around the corner of the building.

Rocco sagged against the wall, relief and frustration warring in his chest. "I had it under control," he muttered, unable to meet Victor's burning gaze.

"The hell you did," Victor snarled, crowding Rocco against the wall. "Do you have any idea who that was? What he would have done to you?"

Rocco's breath caught in his throat, arousal coiling hot and heavy in his gut despite the danger of the situation. "I can take care of myself," he insisted, tilting his chin up defiantly.

Victor's hand shot out, gripping Rocco's jaw. "Can you?" he growled, voice low and dangerous. "Because from where I'm standing, you're just a spoiled brat with a death wish."

Anger flared in Rocco's chest, hot and bright. He shoved at Victor's chest, but it was like pushing against a brick wall. "Fuck you," he spat. "You don't know anything about me."

Victor's eyes flashed dangerously. In one fluid motion, he spun Rocco around, pressing him face-first against the rough brick. His solid bulk pinned Rocco in place, one large hand coming to rest at the base of Rocco's throat.

"I know more than you think, little prince," Victor purred, his breath hot against Rocco's ear. "I know you're desperate for attention, for someone to put you in your place. I know you crave discipline, structure."

Rocco whimpered, his cock hardening in his tight jeans. He should be terrified, should be fighting against Victor's hold. But all he could focus on was the heat of Victor's body, the intoxicating scent of his cologne mixed with gunpowder and leather.

"That's not true," Rocco protested weakly, even as his body betrayed him by pressing back against Victor's solid warmth.

Victor's free hand slid down Rocco's side, coming to rest on his hip. "No?" he murmured, voice rough with desire. "Then why are you hard, baby boy? Why are you trembling in my arms?"

Rocco squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations. "I'm not... I don't..."

Victor's grip tightened, just shy of painful. "Don't lie to me," he growled. "Not about this. Tell me what you want, Rocco. Tell me what you need."

The use of his name, so rare from Victor's lips, broke something open inside Rocco. "You," he whispered, the admission torn from his throat. "I need you, Victor. Please."

For a heart-stopping moment, Rocco thought Victor might actually kiss him. But then the older man stepped back, releasing Rocco from his grip.

"Get in the car," Victor ordered, his voice clipped and professional once more. "We're going home."

Rocco turned, sagging against the wall as he caught his breath. "And if I refuse?" he challenged, unable to help himself.

Victor's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Then I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you there myself. Your choice, princess."

Heat flooded Rocco's cheeks at the mental image. Part of him wanted to push, to see if Victor would make good on that threat. But the larger part, the part that was still reeling from the intensity of their exchange, knew better than to test Victor's patience any further tonight.

"Fine," Rocco muttered, pushing off the wall. "Lead the way, oh fearless protector."

Victor's hand came to rest on the small of Rocco's back as they made their way to the waiting car, the touch both possessive and steadying. Rocco's skin tingled beneath his shirt, hyper-aware of every point of contact between them.

As they slid into the back seat, Rocco couldn't help but notice how close they were sitting. Victor's thigh pressed against his, a line of heat that sent sparks skittering across Rocco's skin.

"You're playing a dangerous game, little prince," Victor murmured as the car pulled away from the curb. "One of these days, you're going to push too far. And I won't be responsible for what happens next."

Rocco turned to face Victor, pulse quickening at the hungry look in the older man's eyes. "Maybe that's exactly what I want," he breathed, leaning in close. "Maybe I'm tired of being treated like some delicate flower that needs protecting."

Victor's hand shot out, gripping the back of Rocco's neck. "Careful what you wish for," he growled, voice low and dangerous. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

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