Page 18 of Violent Cravings

Chapter 10

Ryan

She has barely said a word since I picked her up. I can still taste her on my lips, the sweet aftertaste of a hungry girl.

I expected her to draw back when I went in for the kiss, the one I’ve wanted to claim from her since the first moment I saw her, but she didn’t retreat. Instead, I could feel her lean into me, eagerly welcoming my tongue and chasing me with hers. It’s said that still waters run deep. Maybe they also serve as a hiding place for naughty nymphs.

I took her hand and led her to the car, enjoying the view of her tight skirt as it moved up her leg when she climbed into the backseat. She tried to fix it, but I stopped her by placing my hand on hers, and she let it go right away. No words necessary; a simple look sufficed.

Now she’s sitting next to me, playing nervously with her fingers in her lap. Her slim thigh is still mostly exposed, showing off her long legs. She doesn’t reciprocate my look, but turns her head to stare out the window for most of the ride.

“Nervous,” I state the obvious.

She turns to me, a shy smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“Is that a problem?”

I shake my head.

“I like it,” I tell her. “As long as it’s just that, and not that you’re afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Mr. Hawkins,” she insists.

“You can call me Ryan,” I say, fixating on her with a demanding gaze. “For now.”

“For now?” she asks, her eyebrows arching in confusion.

“For today.”

She looks confused, but lets it go.

“You can call me Laura,” she says. “Or L. That’s what my friends call me.”

“Cute.”

She furrows her eyebrows.

“Laura is fine, too,” she says. “If you don’t like –”

“That’s not it,” I hurry to say. “It’s just that I usually use a different name for my girls.”

“Oh,” she clears her throat as she looks away, turning her attention down to her lap, onto her slender fingers. My eyes follow hers, and it’s the first time I notice the silver ring on the index finger of her left hand. What an odd place for a ring, especially when it’s the only one she’s wearing.

“What do you call them?” she asks. “Your girls.”

“Slut,” I say, curious to see her reaction.

She gasps at the word, her gaze jumping back to me with an indignant expression.

“I don’t like that,” she says. “I don’t want to be called that.”

I can’t help but laugh at her determined demeanor. She’s so fucking precious.

“Okay,” I say. “I’m sure we can come up with something else for you.”

“We can? It’s not against the rules?”

“It’s part of the negotiations, darling. We’ll agree on a set of rules that will work for both of us.”

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