Page 24 of Kiss, Kill, Thrill Me, Daddy

I look up at him and cock an eyebrow. “Can’t or won’t? Because we’ve got a treasure trove of deadly weapons at our disposal. If you were committed to the cause, you would make it happen.”

“You have a point,” he agrees. “Fine. When we arrive, I will put a bullet through his head. Crisis averted.”

The fact he almost sounds serious right now makes him far more adorable than he has any right looking. “Crisis averted until Brody puts a bullet throughyourhead.”

“You would miss me.”

“I absolutely would not. Not today. Not tomorrow.”

“The day after?”

I roll my eyes, but he isn’t even looking at me anymore, so a fat lot of good it does. “Maybe,” I say coyly. “Maybe not.”

“Maybe I will not speak with you again until you decide.”

“Maybe you can go fuck yourself,” I say, reaching up and thumping the tip of his nose with all my might. He doesn’t even flinch.

Fucker.

He stares above, refusing to make eye contact with me. I try asking him about what we’ll wear to Scotty’s wedding, but he ignores me. Then, I theorize that since he’ll be staying at a bed-and-breakfast, not sleeping next to me, he’ll probably send me an unwelcome selection of dick pics. Again, he ignores me. When I tell him I might send him one in return, he jerks his head in my direction, only to realize what he’s done, and turn back toward the ceiling again.

Fuck it. I can play that game too. Angry Abi might even make an appearance if I fuck with him hard enough. Following his lead, I lie down, resting on my back and staring at the ceiling. “Give me your phone. Mine’s about to die.”

He doesn’t say anything, just reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. Once it’s safe and secure in my hands, I put his password in and bring up his messages. I need some form ofentertainment, and his text history should be entertaining enough.

Finally, he breaks his silent streak. “You know my phone’s passcode?”

“It’s literally the last four digits of my social security number.” Bringing up his messages, my heart races faster. Abi’s phone is flooded with unread texts. I scroll and scroll, wanting to see how many people he’s ignored over the last few weeks, and not a single one of them has been read, much less responded to. The only message he’s opened in the last two weeks is one I sent him a few days ago, threatening to have him arrested for larceny. The victim? Yours truly. The stolen object? The last of my waning patience.

“I’m going to read all your texts,” I tell him. “Then I’m going through your photos.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “Nothing better to do.” I turn and face him, smirking. “Aren’t you supposed to be ignoring me until I answer your idiotic question?” It’s hard to tell with the terrible lighting in the car’s trunk, but I’m pretty sure he’s blushing like a fool right now. A cute fool, yes, but a fool nonetheless.

I bring up his message chain with Fee. I’m probably crossing every boundary line set in place by society, but I don’t care. I’m nosey, and he’ll just have to fucking cope. “You better hope you don’t talk shit about me to Fiona in your texts.”

That earns me a chuckle. “If you go looking for trouble, trouble will find you, Tatum.”

I roll my eyes and ignore him, because I refuse to indulge his cryptic clichés. “Whatever.” I scroll back as far back as the messages go and scoot closer to him. The first message in their chain is simply three heart emojis, quickly followed by a selfie of the pair of them. In it, Fee’s got her head on Abi’s shoulder, the same way I’m lying on him now. He’s got his lips pressed against her forehead, and a feeling not unlike jealousy spreads through me. “My forehead is cold.”

“What?”

“It’s cold. Warm it up.” When I look up at him, he’s got one eyebrow lifted in question, but his eyes quickly locate the source of my manic behavior. The second he sees the picture of him kissing Fee, his cocky grin fades, and he kisses my forehead, leaving a trail all the way across.

“All better? Do you wish for more? I’m happy to oblige.”

I huff. “I wish you would die, but unless an eighteen-wheeler rear ends us, I’m stuck with you for Goddess knows how long.” His grip tightens around me, and although I know all this body heat should make me feel uncomfortable, it doesn’t. I feel snug as a bug in a rug.

“I love when you speak to me like that.”

“When I speak to you how?” I ask, closing the chat thread with Fee, because I don’t want to see her kissing all over him again.

“The wishes of death and dismemberment. When you treat me as if you do not care whether I live or die. You may enjoy getting off while others watch, but nothing makes my cock ache like your cruel words and sassy tone.” He takes my hand and guides it to his half-hard bulge as if he’s trying to prove a point. “See?”

I pull my hand away, because I’m in no mood for car-trunk sex. His eyes are probably tracking my movements, watching as I open his messages to Brody. Unfortunately, the only thing I find in the message chain are endless GIFs, a plethora of laugh-slash-cry emojis, and, strangely enough, an image of Tom Daley’s speedo-clad asscheeks.

“Do you jack off to this?” I ask, waving the phone inches from his face. “Your best friend sends you spank-bank material and you just ... what? Rub and tug at your leisure?”

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