Page 36 of Tight End

Right now I’m having a hard time remembering that he’s supposed to be the angel in this whole charade.

Then again, the Devil started out as an angel, too.

Before he fell from grace.

Sam slowly moves toward me, his eyes glowing in the dim light, his lips twisted into a grimace like he just tasted shit. My gaze rakes up the length of his muscular body, finally landing on the distaste in his tight expression.

“You don’t know anything about me.” His voice is low, the angry vibrations rippling through me. “So don’t you fucking come into my house, throw a tantrum like a little bitch, and make comments you can’t back up, you self-centered prick.”

He doesn’t raise his voice for one single syllable, but it’s like he bellowed every word.

The rage inside me is clawing its way out, scraping at my insides as it bubbles to the surface.

Sweat licks at the hairs on the back of my neck, my skin tingling under Sam’s hard glare.

“Nice to see you’ve got a dark side, Sammy boy,” I sneer. “That you’re really human underneath that fucking superhero cape.”

He inches closer and I catch a whiff of him. Fuck, he smells good. Not like cologne, though. It’s something else, fresh and clean. And with this new and unexpected twist of badass, it’s sexier than fuck and makes my head woozy with need.

“You think you can do and say whatever the fuck you want without consequence,” he says, reaching for my shirt. His fingers wrap tight around the fabric and he pulls me close so his good boy smell intoxicates me to the point where my knees wobble.

I want to be a good boy for him…

Whoa. Fuck. Where did that come from?

“Newsflash, I already told you that,” I choke out.

“You’re gonna learn what happens when you say the wrong thing to people.” Sam tightens his grip on me and lowers his head so his lips practically graze mine. “And that consequences matter.”

“Is that a challenge?” I rasp. “Because I don’t think you have it in you to teach me a goddamn thing.”

His heart beats wildly against mine since we’re standing chest to chest. I force my hips against him, his thick, hard cock straining against his jeans.

Fuck. Me.

Sam’s hand releases my shirt and moves up toward my neck. He gives it a little squeeze. “I’m tempted to do a hell of a lot more than this.”

“So do it.” I put my own hand over his, forcing him to tighten his hold. “Show me you can handle me.”

He slowly shakes his head. “No. I’m gonna show you that you can’t handle me.”

I grab his belt buckle, my dick practically dripping at his threat. “I think you’re all talk. It’s easy to say shit. Much harder to do it.” My lips lift, my smile a challenge. “And do it well.”

Before I can tug his belt open, a sudden force throws me against a wall. He pulls off his shirt and my mouth waters as my eyes trace the cuts of muscle defining his upper body.

Clear of tattoos, his skin is smooth and tan, and fuck, I want to lick every inch of him.

Sam pulls off my shirt, then runs a hand down the front of my torso, stopping right at the waistband of my jeans. Such a damn tease. I’m about to tell him so when his fingers wind into my hair. He twists them tight and pulls my head back, forcing me to look up. His breath is hot against my face and his lips are close enough for me to bite and suck.

But I can’t.

I won’t.

“Don’t kiss me. There’s nothing intimate about this. Nothing at all,” I say. “I don’t like you.”

“And I can’t fucking stand you,” he mutters.

Then he flips me around so I face plant against thewall. He pulls open my jeans and shoves them to my ankles. I kick them off. I hear a zipper pull and then a drawer open and close.

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