Page 35 of Tight End

“Good. Just remember, this is an arrangement. And a very fucking temporary one.” His lips lift into a nasty smile. “I’m counting down the days that I have to be stuck with you.”

I shift my weight, the hardwood floor creaking under my feet. “I can’t imagine anyone with any shred of sanity wanting to be aroundyou.”

Brixton squares his shoulders and circles me like a jungle predator. “And you’d put me to sleep with all your do-goodness. I’d taint you, Angel. Stain you so bad, you’d never get clean.”

“Jesus Christ, what a fucking charmer you are.” I push past him, a sharp jolt zapping me as our shoulders collide. I pull open the refrigerator door, grab a bottle of water, and twist off the cap before taking a long sip.

It does nothing to cool the flames climbing in my chest.

“You’ve got a lot of hate in that body,” I say, placing the bottle on the counter. “It must rip you to shreds, the way you use it to tear down everyone who’s around you.”

Shock eclipses his smug expression for a split second. It doesn’t take him long to recover with another rage-filled zinger, though.

“I’d say you should fuck it out of me,” he growls. “But I bet a good boy like you doesn’t fuck, right? I bet your dick wouldn’t know the first thing to do in a hate-fuck situation. Isn’t that right, choir boy?”

Chapter 14

Brixton

Is he fucking kidding me?Nothing?

Sam just stares at me. He doesn’t say a word or make a move. Hell, he might not even be breathing for all I know.

How the hell doesn’t he respond tothat?

God, I just want him to show some emotion, to come unglued.

Give me the finger. Punch me. Something.

Anything.

Because this raging fury is all-consuming, and I need to unleash it in some way before it eats me alive.

I grab the bottle off the counter and hurl it at the white wall. Water splashes everywhere. The plastic bottle clatters on the tile floor. My pulse thrums hard, sparks of heat prickling my skin.

“I knew it. You’re too much of a fucking saint to even try,” I scoff. “Pussy.”

I twist away from him and head for a hallway lined with closed doors. The place is a lot bigger than I thought when wewalked in, not that I’d give him the satisfaction of backpedaling.

And fuck him for not even acknowledging me. I’m so done with him, with this whole sham. Right now, my temples are pounding and I need sleep. Since I’m stuck here for the night, I’ll just find a bed and crash.

I grit my teeth, my feet pounding against the shiny tile. I try to dig the toe of my boot into the polished ceramic to scuff it up but no luck. It’s Brixton-resistant.

Jesus, what a fucking circus. I can’t believe that bastard biker actually stabbed me back at the hospital.

Where the hell were the cameras then? Someone makes an attempt on my life, and nobody gives a damn. But I need to do a press conference and make a public apology?

My fucking ass.

I put a hand over the gauze dressing on my side, a twinge of pain making me wince. It’s Ben’s fault. He’s the one who made me go to the hospital. Where the hell was he when we left?

Gone. And he took my damn car with him.

I’m firing him tomorrow.

Scrubbing a hand down the front of my face, I reach for a door handle on the right. My fingers close around the brass and just as I twist it open, a rush of air shoots through my lips. Strong hands grip the back of my shirt and shove me into the darkness.

I flip around as Sam closes and locks the door behind him. A thin stream of light from between the blinds hits his face and my cock jerks.

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