Page 12 of Pucking Forbidden

"You like her."

I whip my head around, pinning her with a hard glare, but she just smiles like she already has my number. And I don’t deny it.

I do like Sutton. Far more than is good for her.

"You're allowed to like her, Jordan. Just because you have issues with her brother doesn't mean you have to have issues with her."

"She's his sister," I point out.

"There's no rule that says you have to forgive him." Emilia shrugs. "That's up to you. But you don't have to punish her for whatever he did."

"She doesn't even know." I resume pacing. "How the fuck am I supposed to tell her what he did, Lariat?"

"Do you want to talk about what he did?"

"Hell no," I snap. "Not with you." People like her shouldn’t ever have to know what pricks like Jamison can do to people they claim to love.

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to tell her?"

Do I? I shrug, not sure how to answer that question. Part of me—the pissed off, vindictive part—does want to tell her. I want to take her from him, blow his life apart at the seams. But the rest of me? No. For her sake, no.

"Then don't tell her. You can hate him and what he did, and still protect his relationship with her. That doesn't mean you're doing it for his sake, Jordan. If they're close, let it be for her sake."

That’s…not really helpful. Or hell, maybe it is. That’s been my plan all along, hasn’t it? To protect her for her sake. But…maybeI can do that without breaking her heart all over again. Jamison took her from me once. Who says I have to let him do it again?

Is there a world where she and I might have a future without me telling her the whole ugly truth? Without her having to choose between me and Jamison?

"Yeah," I finally mumble. "Yeah, maybe I can do that."

"Then problem solved."

I shoot Emilia an assessing look, impressed. "You don't suck at this."

"Surprised?"

I fight a smile, holding my thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "I had my doubts after the whole lizard dick, circle jerk fiasco, Lariat. But…you might actually make it around here."

"Might?" She arches a brow at me, her expression pert. "Don't flatter me too hard, Silvestri. I might begin to think you actually like me."

I grin, striding for the door. "Who me? I don't like anyone."

Chapter Four

Jordan

“Son of a bitch,” I groan when I step outside of the arena and find Sutton waiting for me. She looks as beautiful as ever with her hair pulled away from her face in a ponytail and her cheeks pink. The afternoon sun casts a haloaround her head. Her purple top molds to her tits, turning my dick to steel. Her jeans hug her curves, sending beads of sweat rolling down my back.

“Well, hello to you too,” she says, smirking at me as she pushes away from the wall, sashaying in my direction. “Last I checked, I wasn’t the son of anything.”

“Why are you here, Sutton?” I growl, so fucking hard it hurts.

“Because I like seeing the way the muscle in your jaw tics whenever you look at me. Sometimes, your eye twitches at the same time, and I get a two-for-one.” She smiles sweetly, tipping her head to the side. “Have you ever considered meditation? I’ve heard it does wonders for the disposition.”

“My goddamn disposition is fine.” I step around her to head to my truck as if that’s going to keep me from putting my hands all over her. I’m hanging by a thread here, and every word from her mouth tips me closer to the point of no return.

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