Page 36 of Unwrapping Deviance

Fuck, that still pisses me off.

And she’s not even mine!

That’s the craziest part. I was ready to commit every crime in the book for a girl I only just met.

A girl who slapped me.

Okay, maybe I deserved it, but that’s not even the worst part.

I liked it.

I liked the challenge. The raw, primal hunger to break her into submission.

I liked the fire in her eyes, the taste of my blood on my teeth.

I like her fight. I want her to struggle and buck and tell me she hates me just to fall completely to pieces when I fuck her. I want her rabid and feral, and fucking wild.

I want her to run for her fucking life so I can hunt her down, tear off her clothes and fuck her until she’s screaming and cumming all over my cock.

But she’s Daniel’s. I don’t know to what extent because they haven’t fucked. I know they haven’t; the dress covers very little of her soft, sweet skin, and Daniel isn’t gentle, but beyond that, I can smell — not literally — the innocence on her. I can almost taste her wants, her needs. She wants to get fucked, hard and mercilessly by the man gripping her fingers possessively and he’s being a little bitch.

That will not do.

We have a reputation to uphold and I’m not about to let my big brother fumble this.

The truck is pulled into a spot behind a sea of other vehicles, in view, but out of the way. Daniel kills the engine and kicks openhis door. I wad up my used tissues into the truck door to discard later. I could take them into the diner, but if I go in there with blood-stained tissues, someone might create a voodoo doll of me and do weird things with it.

So, I chuck them aside as Daniel gets to Mira’s door. He yanks it open as I push my own door open.

He keeps a steady palm on the small of her back as we make our way towards the short, white building with four walls of gleaming glass. The parking lot is reasonably full for nearly midafternoon. The nearest building is the gas station across the street which makes me pray the place isn’t full.

I’ve had a long night, a longer morning, and I’m starving. If anyone tells me there’s a wait for my bacon and eggs, we’re going to have problems.

I’m eyeing the windows, gauging our chances at a table when Mira suddenly stops and faces me. Her unexpected presence in my path startles me to a halt. My gaze drops to her beautiful, upturned face.

I feel myself grin. “What’s up, Goldilocks?” I tease.

The tiny temptress matches my grin. “You still have blood on your face. Do you have any of the tissues?”

I reach for my pockets already knowing my self-pat-down is useless, but shake my head.

Mira glances at Daniel who gives her a slight head shake.

She takes a deep breath and faces me once more. Then, without pausing, she pops her thumb into her mouth and swipes the pad across her pink tongue.

I don’t move. I stay perfectly still as she reaches up and lightly brushes the damp finger along the seam of my bottom lip. She has to go up on her toes to reach and her free hand is on my shoulder for balance. She’s so close, I can smell the scent of her skin. I can count the dozens of freckles scattered across her button nose like brown sugar. I’m struggling to keep my armsfrom encircling her and dragging her into my chest and she’s casually stroking my lip like it’s a normal thing to do.

“There,” she murmurs with a self-satisfied little smirk that makes something in my chest do something stupid.

It’s so cute I want to sink my teeth into her lip until she bleeds so I can lick it, and I’m not even into that kind of shit. Seriously. But something about this fucking woman is turning me feral in a way I’m pretty sure is going to get me put on some damn list for crazy, cannibal people.

Is there such a list? If not, there’s about to be because I have a whole scene in my head of tying her across the bed and leaving my teeth marks all over her soft skin.

Is it cannibalism if she orgasms?

I let the thought go before my brain forgets to distinguish between reality and fantasy. Besides, marks aren’t my thing. They’re Daniel’s.

Speaking of the other man, I let my gaze drift away from the tiny bundle of temptation to where my brother stands watching us. Watching her. Eyes hard. Hungry. He’s as aroused as I am, and Mira ... Mira has no fucking idea the cages she’s opening. The creatures she’s setting free. Her sense of self-preservation that most women are supposed to have must be broken because a sane, normal person would recognize the danger they were in.

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