Page 92 of The Venom We Bleed

What if she doesn’t like me?

What if she doesn’t like what I do to her?

What if … the fantasy is better than the real thing?

All of my fears collide into one in my head, but as the woman next to me turns and faces me, her expression a stony mask, I push them away and focus on her.

“What now?” she demands. “Are you going to leave me in the middle of nowhere and tell me to find my way back on my own?”

Ignoring the ridiculous question, I glance over my shoulder at the backseat. Thankfully, it looks like none of the glass reached there. No doubt it’s littering my trunk space though. It’ll be a bitch to clean out, but worth it since letting Juliet break my shit brought us both here.

I get out of the car, hitting the unlock button as I do, and hear her outraged cry of, “Where the hell are you going?” behind me. Juliet glares at me through the windshield as I circle around to her side. She tenses as I open her door and reach for her. Her hands ball into fists and she resists, pulling back as I lock my fingers around her wrists and drag her from the car. No more punches though. She learned that lesson.

Her head tips back as I press her against the side of my SUV. Soft moonlight drifts over her features, making her already blue hair appear even more vibrant in the night. My chest is against hers. I’m close enough I can count each pulse of her heartbeat in her throat.

Now that I have her here, I’m practically vibrating with the need to get inside of her.

I didn’t fuck her…Nolan’s earlier words penetrate the fog of desire that’s descended over my mind. No, he hadn’t fucked her, but he tasted her. He knows the intimate details of her sex. What kind of flavor rolls across the tongue of the man blessed enough to kneel at her feet. It’s not fair. I wanted her first.

“What?” Juliet’s voice makes me realize I’ve left off looking at her face and am now slowly moving down the rest of her. She wears a plain t-shirt and jeans like a supermodel. Her body lithe and strong beneath the fabric.

“You think my brothers and I want to hurt you?” I rasp out the question.

“I know you do,” she replies.

“You’re right,” I tell her, “and you’re wrong.”

She smells so fucking good. It makes me want to bend my head down into the place I marked with my teeth and inhale until I get high on nothing else but her. Juliet Donovan is my drug of choice.

Juliet’s body bumps mine as she shifts against the SUV. “Just get on with it,” she snaps, gesturing to the road that’s unlit by any street lights. “Go on.”

“I’m not planning on leaving you here,” I tell her, leaning close—so fucking close. I dip my head, holding myself just far enough away that our mouths don’t brush, but I can still feel the heat of her breath.

“Then what are you going to do?” She looks at me, so full of defiance and challenge. It would be such a shame to deny her.

The truth is all I have for her. “I’m going to show you exactly why you’re wrong about us.”

“I hate you, Alexio Medicci…” she whispers. She says my name like a prayer and a curse. It sounds so fucking good on her tongue.

“No, you don’t, baby.” My mouth hovers incredibly close to hers. The barest of inches separates us. “You hate that I see you. You hate that none of the people you trusted ever saw the real you. But I do.Wedo.”

I brush my lips across hers. Once. Twice. By the third time, her breathing hitches and her hands creep up the sides of my arms.

“This doesn’t mean shit,” she warns me.Lie.

“It meanseverything.” I grip her waist and let some of my weight rest against her until she can feel the hard ridge of my cock in my jeans.

The moment my mouth finally meets hers, I know we’re both lost.

Love? Hate? It doesn’t matter anymore. What we feel can’t be described by the written word or a simplified emotion. What we feel transcends conscious thought and all that’s left is fire and ice.

36

JULIET

Lex’s fingertips against my body dig deep, prying me away from the outside of the SUV as his mouth slants over mine. His kiss begins soft, almost reverent, but I don’t want that. I want violent. I want wrathful. I bite down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood and the groan that echoes up his throat rebounds up into the night sky. We’re surrounded by nothing but a long stretch of infrequently traveled road and trees. Out here, anything could happen. He could set me loose, tell me to run, and hunt me through these woods.

Just like my dreams…

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