Page 19 of Filthy Savage

I hum. “It’s cute that you think you have a choice, beautiful. But you don’t.”

Her eyes narrow further on me. I keep my hands cupping her cheeks as I look into her eyes, and I want nothing more than to kiss her right now—I want to devour her. Spencer is and always will be special.

“It’s for your safety. We’re going after the people who did what they did to Clink.”

“The police?” she asks on a whisper.

Chuckling, I shake my head a couple of times before I answer her. “I wish it were that easy. No, beautiful. The fuckers who are really behind Clink’s shit. The Southern Mafia.”

She doesn’t speak immediately. She watches me for a long moment. Then she clears her throat. “I don’t know who they are.”

“Good,” I bark. “And you don’t want to.”

Sliding one of my hands from her cheek to her throat, I curl my fingers around the front as I look into her eyes, my gaze staying connected to hers without breaking. Without looking away, because everything else in the entire fucking world completely vanishes.

There is just her and me. Nothing and nobody else matters—I don’t think they ever did.

Jesus Christ, but I want to fuck her right now. I want to taste her cunt. I want to feel her squeeze me, and I want to hear her scream my name. And I will. Soon enough.

“What aren’t you telling me?” she exhales.

“That they’re dangerous, and we’re going to make sure that this shit never happens again. Not to Clink, not to anyone. But in order for me to do that, I need to know that you’re safe.”

She presses her lips together, rolling them a few times as she stares into my eyes. I squeeze her throat once, then release the pressure but keep my hand on her flesh. “I need to know that you’re safe, Spencer.”

“Why?” she asks.

Leaning forward, I touch my lips to hers, but I don’t deepen the kiss. I keep my lips on hers, feeling her breath against my mouth.

“Because, Spencer, when I get done, I’m going to come back to the clubhouse. You’re going to be in my bed, and I’m going to take my time with you. I’m going to kiss every inch of your body.I’m going to make you come with my mouth, and then I’m going to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

SPENCER

Oh.My. God.

That was the hottest speech I’ve ever heard in my entire life. I want to cry it was so good. But I can’t do that. I can’t show him how much he’s affected me, though if I had to guess, he already knows.

“Fine,” I say with shaky lips. “I’ll pack a bag.”

His lips twitch up into a smirk. He takes a step backward, wordlessly standing to the side of the room as he watches me. I roll my eyes to the ceiling and then begin to pack my things back into my bag.

I don’t know why I’m doing what I’m doing. I should just throw my shit into my car and start driving home. But I don’t. I want all of those things he promised. I want him to do them to me. To lick every square inch of my body, to make me come, to make me scream his name.

It’s been so long since someone touched any part of me that I might come at the first contact.

Why does the thought of that excite me? Coming at the first contact. Just the thought sends a shiver down my spine. I want him to make me come. I want to be with him. I feel like a teenager again, and then I inwardly chastise myself because I also feel stupid like I did back then.

By the time I finish packing, I have talked myself out of everything. I need to get the hell out of here and go back to my life. I should find a sweet man who is going to take care of me and treat me with the utmost respect.

But then, when I lift my gaze to the man standing across the room, my thighs tremble. I don’t think a nice guy is going to do. I mayneedsomeone sweet, but Iwantthat man across from me. I want him to pick me up and taste me.

I want him to use me, to fuck me—to own me.

Zipping up my bag, I start to take it off the bed, but Brew reaches for it and tugs it off for me. Swallowing hard, I look up at him, my eyes finding his before I speak. I’m not sure why I say what I do next. I don’t believe the words, so I’m not sure he will either.

“I think I should go home.”

Brew smirks, obviously believing as much as I thought he would of that single sentence—which is nothing. He sets my bag to the side before he crowds me again.

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