Page 96 of The Devil's Deal

“I can see you’re mad. I’ll go. No worries.”

I don’t attempt to remove my fist from his shirt. I tighten it instead, glaring into his soulless hazel eyes.

Cain has a good twenty years on me, and the grays on the side of his head are making their appearance. His biggest problem is that he thinks pussy is his for the taking, whenever and however he wants it. I’ve heard he’s been brought up on at least two rape charges, but he’s never gone away for it. Rumor is he paid the women off before the law could make a case against him. It’s part of the reason I hate working with him. The fucker needs to be put through a grinder.

“Get your hand off of me so I can go,” he throws casually.

I’m almost afraid he’ll call me by my real name. That’s not how I want her to find out. I plan to tell her who I am once I kill her father.

But I knew inviting her here would be a risk, and the twisted part of me didn’t care. I want her to know. I want her to hate me. I don’t deserve her or the happiness we could have.

I finally remove my fist from his shirt, and he gets to his feet, fucking off toward the exit.

“Are you okay?” I ask her, my hand on her cheek, concern punched in my voice.

“I’m fine, Brian. I’ve dealt with bigger idiots at the club than that guy.” She tilts her head sideways with a deep smile. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Right.”

I take the seat the asshole was just in, gazing at her.

“I forgot who you were for a second,” I chuckle.

“And who’s that?” Her lips curve up.

“The chick who punched a guy at the club.”

She’s so beautiful, I never want to stop staring.

Her brow whips up as she angles her body toward me some more, purposely rubbing her calf on mine. “That’s right, and don’t ever forget it again.”

She pulls her chair closer and leans her luscious lips to my ear as I suck in a breath like a horny high school kid.

“You don’t need to save me from anyone but yourself.”

Her exhale runs over my skin, and I instantly harden. My palm lands on the back of her neck in a sign of ownership as I gaze at her, and she gazes just as relentlessly.

“I need you upstairs in my room.”

“Maybe I don’t want to go.” The words spin out of her lips like a wicked game she likes to play.

“Oh, youwillwant to. If you don’t…” I swallow her lower lip with my teeth, nipping hard as she moans. “I will flip you over my knee and fuck your pussy with my fingers.”

She pants. “Maybe you should. I bet you’d get a lot more donations.”

“Fuck,” I groan, my fingers sinking deeper into her soft skin as I pull her face back. “Get upstairs and get on the bed. Keep your clothes on. I want to be the one to take them all off.”

Her gaze is drunk with the same appetite I have growing, her body still on the chair.

“I hate asking twice,” I tell her as she sucks on her lower lip, making me want to be the one to do it.

Not giving her a chance to respond, I go and shake some hands, needing to empty their pockets before I spend the rest of the night pleasing a woman I can no longer hate.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chiara

I practically runup the stairs, unable to wait for his hands all over my body, forgetting about my plan to run. I doubt I could, anyway. He has more security than he normally does tonight, and I’m sure he made it clear to all of them that I’m not to leave.

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