Page 99 of Vile Boys

“You don’t have to fear me like you fear them,” he murmurs.

“I don’t fear them. I’m not afraid of anyone,” I swiftly respond.

His breath tingles against my neck. “Good. Hold that feeling for as long as you can.”

“As long as I can?” I repeat.

“They’ll break you eventually.”

When his hands leave my shoulders, it feels like a ghost flying away, leaving me with shivers all over.

He grabs a bottle off his top shelf and sits down on the bench in front of the bathtub, patting his thigh. “Come here.”

I swallow and shake my head.

He raises his brow. “Are you afraid I’ll bite?” A smirk forms on his lips. “Oh right, I forgot … you’re not afraid of anything. So why don’t you come?”

Shit. He got me there.

He opens the jar and shows me the contents. “It’s just cooling gel. See? Nothing dangerous.”

I swallow and push back the apprehension to get closer.

He grabs me by my thighs and pulls me in, easily pushing me down onto his giant lap.

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He fingers the jar with his index finger and middle finger, and I don’t know why I focus on it, but I can’t take my eyes off him as he brings them to my ass and rubs the gel into my skin. The cool glow it applies feels nice against the red marks Caleb left.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he murmurs, and he blows cool breath into my ear, making goose bumps scatter on my skin.

What am I doing? Why am I letting him do this to me?

He swiftly turns me around so I’m looking at him instead of the door, my legs over his, and I can feel his package underneath my ass, twitching behind that robe.

But instead of poking me with it, he grabs a towel, dips it into the half-filled tub, and wipes it along my face, cleaning up the filth.

“There … much better,” he murmurs, gently dabbing my face with the towel.

And something about that softness in him breaks me.

Tears well up in my eyes, but only one manages to roll down before I push them away again. He picks up the one tear with his index finger to stop it from falling.

“If you want me to hurt them, all you need to do is ask,” he says. “And I will oblige.”

“They’re your friends,” I say. “Aren’t you supposed to defend them?”

“I am, and I can’t actually kill them, but sometimes they deserve an ass-whooping just as much as anyone else, which I am more than happy to provide,” he says, making me chuckle. “Well, I’m glad you can still laugh about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I love how you laugh,” he says.

God, why is it so warm in here all of a sudden?

“I don’t understand. Why are you so nice to me?” I ask.

He raises a brow. “Am I not allowed?”

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