Page 17 of The Trap

Finally, he steps aside, and I don’t hesitate a second as my hand reaches for the doorknob. But just as I’m about to turn it, I pause, angling to face him.

“You know, you should try a butt plug instead,” I joke.

His brow furrows in confusion. “Huh?”

A grin splits my lips. “Oh, and maybe a vibrating one,” I add, reveling in the utter confusion on his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m not following.”

I’m about to open the door but he catches me in a tight grip on my wrist. Pulling me back into him, he holds me close. Closer than we were just moments before, but not as close as my body wishes we would be.

“I bet you’d like that,” he deadpans, a hint of a grin on his face. “Being that close to me.”

“To your asshole? I’ll fucking pass,” I laugh. Attempting to release myself from his hold, I step back, but as if we’re twisted in a tango, he follows my lead, tightening his grip, pressing me closer to his chest.

Clicking his tongue, he lowers his mouth inches from mine. His breath is a weird mix of hops and weed, a combination that should be putrid together but mixed with the musk of his cologne, it does more than permeate my nostrils and I can feel heat painting my cheeks.

His free hand finds my chin, tipping it so that our lips are even closer, practically kissing...again. I can feel his pulse against my skin just like I’m sure he can feel my heart thrashing at my chest. I don’t know why we keep doing this. It’s like when one of us wants to leave the other refuses to allow it. There’s nothing between us, aside from lust. Though the way lust can run rampant throughout the body, attacking the mind, consuming every thought, both waking and subconscious, I guess it can be just as dangerous if not more than love.

“Go ahead,” he pauses, puckering his lips before pulling them into a wicked grin. “I’m right here. I could be yours so easily.” His words are both a challenge and an invitation.

Inching my neck forward, I press my lips to his, just enough so that they graze his teasingly, but not enough to classify as a kiss. His knees buckle, his heart a raging storm thrashing about, waiting, begging to be unleashed, but he holds still, fighting it.

“What would your brother say?” I whisper, tauntingly.

He swallows. “Who fucking cares,” his tone, raw, possessive,delicious.

Allowing my tongue to break the barrier of my parted lips, my barbell flicks against the top of his mouth. Playing with him. Teasing him and if I’m being honest, torturing myself in the process. Another flick at his lip and I tug it into my mouth, heightening the tension between us.

“Hermoso culo,” I insult, loving how he can’t understand even the most basic Spanish. “You could cover that pretty face with a mask, threaten to chase me and punish me with what I’m sure is a big, pierced dick–my favorite by the way–and I still wouldn’t give in to you. Never.” My words sting my own throat as they leak their venom. It’s cold, but it’s the truth, or at least a truth I have to convince myself of. “Get the fuck off me before I stab your dick with my heels,” I threaten, expecting him to have some fiery retort, but he throws me off him, making me lose my balance.

I inhale deeply, refusing to look back at him as I reach for the door again. It whines at my touch, hinges squealing.

I’m a few footsteps out of the door when his deep rasp breaks the tension in the air.

“Never say never,” he says. It sounds like a threat but it’s too late. I have nothing left to say to him. Swallowing down the lies I’d been spewing all evening; I move into the night air and far away from his piercing stare.

I try to ignore it, but the more distance I put between us, the more tempted I am to get one last look at his face, even if it’s contorted with anger. One more glance won’t kill me. If anything, it’ll kill him, which makes it that much more fun. But instead, I resist, reaching for my phone to send Carmine a text.

Me: Got it.

Three dots appear almost instantly.

Carmine: Excellent. Hold on to it, I’ll be in touch tomorrow to grab it.

Me: Yep.

Carmine: Now make sure you exit exactly like we discussed.

Me: Yep.

Carmine: Someone’s in a mood.

Me: I’m fine.

Carmine: If you say so. Remember, after tonight no more with him.

Me: No shit. Consider Brett forgotten.

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