Page 19 of Brutal Game

And I was going to. After all, she was mine to break.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I informed her. “You have two choices. One option: I text Coach and tell him you broke into the arena, and he calls the police. You get arrested, you lose whatever scholarship you probably have, and get a permanent mark on your record. Say goodbye to your dreams and goals. On top of that, I’ll make sure everyone here at Reina and in the hockey world at large knows your brother tried to blackmail the coach. The NHL doesn’t take kindly to shit like that.”

“They won’t believe you,” she argued.

“Oh, they’ll believe me. You have no evidence. It’s your word against mine. This university, this city, loves both of us. But you? You’re an outsider, a stranger, trying to blow up the Frozen Four for us. Who do you think they’ll listen to, Aviva? You and your loser brother, or Jack Hat Trick Feldman?”

Her shoulders slumped. She knew I was right.

So I continued. “Now, there is an option B: I don’t tell Coach Jensen, I don’t call the police. In return, you’re mine. You’re going to become my filthy little fucktoy. Whatever I want, you give me. Anytime, anywhere, any which way.”

“Absolutely not.”

God this woman. I couldn’t help but admire her—here I was, threatening to destroy her life, and she still stood strong against me.

But as strong as she was, I was stronger.

I released her with one arm to pull my phone out of my pocket.

“Cool. I’ve got Gehenom PD’s number saved in my phone. It comes in handy to have a few cops in your pocket.”

Especially with my ties to Vixen and Vice. Getting the local police force to turn the other way and ignore what was happening on campus came in handy. So did having abillionaire half-brother with a guilt complex; Marcus might not agree with my tactics, but he’d keep me out of trouble.

Aviva grabbed for my phone, but it was easy to hold it over her head.

“Nuh uh, little thief,” I scolded. “I won’t fall for that pickpocket shit twice. Siri, call Gehenom PD.”

The phone started to ring.

Once.

Twice.

Before it could ring a third time, Aviva spoke up. “Okay! Okay!”

Fuck yeah.

I pressed end on the call. “Okay, what?”

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

“You’ll be my filthy little fucktoy?”

She nodded.

“Say it,” I ordered.

“I’ll be your f—” she stumbled over the words, her whole body trembling.

“Say it, or I call them back,” I threatened.

“I’ll be yourfilthy little fucktoy.” She spat out the words. If she could’ve killed me with her eyes alone, she would’ve. Her anger was stunning.

“Hearing you say that makes my cock hard.” I shoved my hips against hers, grinding against her soft, bare stomach, so she could feel the evidence.

She was mine. For as long as I wanted her, I could do whatever the hell I wanted to her. Every dark impulse I’d ever had, everything I’d ever fantasized about, I could do to her perfect, soft body. And make sure she loved all of it, even as she hated me.

Mine.

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