Page 50 of Passion and Revenge

I resist the urge to smile. Little does she know I’m a completely different person when I’m with her. She brings out something in me. This hatred floating over an ocean of desire that exists between us is both maddening and exciting.

Each sharp word and insult feels like foreplay. Like tiny little razor nicks that make me hold my breath and thrum with something I can’t explain.

Fuck my life, but I want her.

I want her under me and staring up at me with a mixture of burning hatred, shame, and hunger.

Blood begins to fill my cock, and I will my erection away with the most gruesome thoughts I can think up.

“The reason no one’s tried to put a hole in me yet is because they know I’ll crawl out of hell and take them back with me.”

She shuts her book, giving me her undivided attention. Why do I like it so much? The satisfaction that blooms inside me as her hazel eyes meet mine is cause for alarm.

“That’s the sort of campfire story they tell kids to give them nightmares.” She glares at me. “I’m not a kid. You can’t hurt anybody when you’re dead.”

I open my mouth to reply, and my phone buzzes again.

“Seriously?” Sienna throws her hands up in an exasperated gesture. “I’m really feeling like the other woman over here. Can you put it on silent, or better still, toss it out the window if you’re not going to check your phone?”

I reach for my pocket, and it’s only my fast reflexes that save me from getting a concussion as she hurls her book at me.

Leaping out of my chair, I rush toward her and haul her to her feet. “What the fuck was that?”

“That was me missing my opportunity to put you in a coma.”

The first time I saw Sienna, I thought she was the sweetest woman on the planet. Her shy smiles and the way she blushed so easily deceived me into thinking this woman was anything but vicious.

First, she says she’ll make them chop my fingers off before putting me in an electric chair. Next, she wants to shoot me, and now she wants to put me in a coma.

I’m beginning to feel like the captive here.

“I won’t miss the next one,” she continues. “She can spend the rest of her life wiping you down in a hospital bed.”

“Who?”

Her chin thrusts in the air obstinately, and I’m about to shake the truth out of her when it suddenly hits me.

“Are you jealous?”

Her eyes widen so much that they’re practically circles on her face. “W—what? Jealous? Of what? You?”

I raise a brow, curious and amused at the same time. I’m mostly saying it to rile her up, but there’s a part of me that wants it to be true, too. “Well, are you?”

“N—no. Of course not. What gives you that idea?” She shrugs her shoulder out of my grip, trying to look nonchalant and failing miserably. Her gaze is ping-ponging around the room in a most obvious display of guilt.

The smile that curves my mouth is full of teeth.

“Stop smiling,” she barks. “Do you think I risked destroying a perfectly good book because I’m jealous of some unlucky woman?”

“I don’t know, Sienna.” Her eyes darken at my use of her name. I noticed it the very first time I said her name, and I have made sure to see that tiny reaction out of her as often as I can. “You tell me.”

“You’re the bad guy,” she responds softly.

It sounds an awful lot like she’s trying to remind herself.

“You’ve obviously killed people,” she continues.

“People who deserved it.”

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