Page 3 of Ruthless Rebel

The only people who ever get to see a different side to him, the real side, are Elle and Cassie, not that I can blame him. His father's sins are as bad as my own, and you can’t grow up under a man like that and come out unscathed. We have matching wounds, it’s just that unlike his, mine don’t have anything to heal them yet.

“So are you,” I reply simply, moving deeper into the kitchen and taking a seat in the chair across the island from him, letting my stare drop down his entire body once more like it’s an addiction.

He turns slowly, his blue eyes assessing me in the same way they always do, as he sips from his glass. His stare lingers on my bare torso, eating up every inch of skin on display, before he meets my own eyes with a bored expression. “No extracurricularactivities to keep you busy this evening?” He asks, throwing the secrets I keep hidden from everyone else directly in my face.

It’s been weeks since he discovered the work I have been doing, and to my surprise, no other members of my family have come questioning me about it. It seems I’m not the only one who can keep a secret around here. Not that he isn’t burned with his own deceptions of course, but in this game, a prince and a rebel were never meant to align.

I smirk as I lean across the island, my fingers flexing around the bottle of vodka as I drag it towards me and bring it to my lips. “Not the kind of activities that you’re thinking of,” I purr, tipping some of the clear liquid into my mouth, and basking in the way his eyes stalk my every move.

“Well, we both know I have no interest in those activities,” he snaps far too quickly, shaking his head, as he takes another sip from his glass.

“One of us knows that,” I start, watching his deep swallow with keen eyes, imagining other things I could put there, before I add, “The other is a liar.”

The muscles in his shoulders tense as my words hit their intended target perfectly. “Lincoln,” he grits in exhaustion, my name nothing but a wicked warning, as he reaches up to loosen his tie until it hangs free around his neck.

It’s the same way he always says my name, with intent, with annoyance, with the need for me to stop, yet all it does is wave a red flag in front of my face. I can’t stop, doesn’t he see that? It’s why I’m down here, why I’m blazing beneath his glare and begging for the scraps of attention he deems fit to offer me without him even realizing it.

Asher Donovan is the son of the devil, a monster in his own right, clouded in black and sin, yet his very presence around me has become an addiction.

He finishes the drink in his glass without another word,knowing I will heed the one word warning he just gave me. His stare remains completely indifferent as he holds out his hand for the bottle in mine, and all it does is make me want to push him even more.

“So you have no interest in what I do with a man in bed, but god forbid I put one in the ground and suddenly it’s your business?” I ask, using more words than I normally would, as I slowly get up and move around the island that separates us.

I pour him another drink, just the amount he likes, even though he always goes back for more, and his stare dissects my every move.

“I have no interest in what you do with a man, fucking or killing, but make no mistake, Lincoln, when it concerns my family, it is my business.”

There’s the use of my name again, so alluring that I almost miss what he said, but I don’t, and before he can continue, I cut in. “Our family,” I remind him, and he pauses. “You said my family, but it’s ours.” If looks could kill, I’d be bleeding out at his feet by now, but all I do is smirk, as I lean in even closer to him. “You can’t stand it, can you? You hate the fact that Elle gave me nothing but blind faith and I’ve proved her right at every turn, or have you forgotten that I helped save her?”

We are so close now that his head tips back slightly so he can keep meeting my gaze, still sipping from that damn glass as he grits out, “You took a knife for my daughter, Blackwell, I won’t ever forget that.”

I don’t respond, not with words anyway, just let my stare devour him whole, and for the first time ever he backs down. His eyes take in the length of my body and I don’t think he even realizes it. He certainly hasn’t realized the audience we now have. His mouth opens as if he wants to say something else, but another voice beats him to it.

“I hope you’re not trying to fuck without me,” Logan purrs,and I cock my head to find him leaning on the island beside the chair I vacated, watching us with anticipation.

A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth, a mouth I had wrapped round my cock mere hours ago, and from the look in his eye, he remembers it just as well as I do. I take another sip of vodka, letting the taste set my throat aflame, before both discarding the bottle and Asher, moving back around towards where Logan now waits.

“You look like you were ready to start without me,” Logan adds, his teeth sinking into his lip at the thought, and I have to bite back a groan at the picture he always loves to paint.

Asher scoffs, “Isn’t it tiring flirting with me all the time, especially in front of your boyfriend?” His cold stare, now back to being completely indifferent again, flicks between the two of us, not a look of envy in sight, and as usual it’s like a sucker punch to my gut.

Yet Logan isn’t deterred, he never is, despite being on this train wreck for far longer than I have been. “Oh, Ash, the only thing I find tiring is Lincoln fucking me all night, but maybe if we had a third I could keep up.”

His response doesn’t even make Donovan flinch, he just smirks, watching Logan closely as if he can read his every thought, before pushing back off the island. “I’m going to bed,” he announces, discarding his glass in the sink, but keeping the bottle in his hand.

“I mean it’s not much of an invite,” Logan shrugs, rising to his full height beside me and wrapping his arms lazily around my torso. “But we’ll take it.”

Asher rounds the island, watching blankly as Logan begins to stroke my stomach, his fingers just slightly dipping into the band of my sweats, and I swear I hold my breath as he pauses beside us. He tips back the bottle of vodka, closing his lipsaround the tip and drinking deeply, entrapping us both with the sight.

Then he brushes past us, not even pausing to give us a second look as he ignores my presence completely, and replies, “Goodnight, Logan.”

“Goodnight my little psycho,” Logan calls out to his back, as we both watch him leave.

I sigh, pulling Logan's hands free and spinning us until I have him pressed against the island. “I think you pushed him too far,” I muse, as he rises up and places his lips against my neck.

“Nah, I haven’t pushed him far enough yet, but I’m working on it,” he smirks against my skin, and I have to bite back my groan of approval at both his actions and words, before he pulls back and adds, “So, bed?”

And there it is, that light in the darkness that keeps guiding me home, and instead of pushing him away like I know I should, I take his hand and let him guide us back to my room. I’m already going to hell, so why not break all the rules before I get there?

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