Page 90 of The Ruthless Note

“I already told you what I wanted, Brahms.” His eyes flash. “Come here.”

Moving forward although everything inside me is telling me to run, I stop in front of him. He places a hand on my hip and jerks me forward. I stare heatedly down into his eyes, mesmerized by his total lack of humanity.

Why does he hate me so much? Why can’t he just leave me alone?

Dutch places his other hand on my hip and holds me steady. The guitar on his lap slips down and it’s only my knees that are pinned against his keeping the expensive instrument from falling to the ground.

He studies me with a much softer, more intimate gaze than I thought he was capable of.

“Relax, Brahms.” His left hand rubs a circle against my hip. “I already told you that I’m not going to take it. Not by force.”

My lips and tongue start tingling as his gaze drops to my mouth.

“You must be high or stupid if there’s a part of you that genuinely believes I want you, Dutch,” I spit.

He laughs at me. Dark and rolling. His laughter is more insulting than anything he could have said.

I boil with anger. The jagged parts of me that live to see him bleed rise to the surface. Rather than back away, I lean forward. “My body belongs to me. I can do what I want with it. With whomever I want. It doesn’t have to be you.”

Desire passes through his eyes when I come closer. It charges the air between us. That thin line between hate and lust disappearing, getting buried under a rolling fog.

“It is going to be me,” he says self-assuredly.

“I’d die first,” I whisper, arching my chest over his.

Dutch grabs my chin. His fingers are tight but not painful. His frown is colder than any I’ve seen. “Lesson number three, Brahms. Your body belongs to me. Your first time belongs to me too. I will endanyonewho gets between me and what’s mine.”

I try to jerk back, but he holds me steady.

His eyes are hard marbles, but when they roam down my chest, they sizzle with heat. “You are going to moan beneath me.” The gravity running through his promise makes my body tighten.

I’m playing a dangerous game here, but I don’t care if I lose. As long as Dutch does too, I’ll let the fire burn me to a crisp.

“Care to bet on it?”

His lips curl up. It’s like he’s already seen that I’ll end up in his bed and so there’s no need for further discussion. “No. I already know I’ve won. And there’s nothing you could give me outside of the obvious.” He arches a brow.

Freaking arrogant littlebastard.

“Why don’t you just shut up so we can start our project?” I grind out.

Dutch smirks and releases my chin. “Hold this.”

I gasp in surprise when he shoves the guitar at me.

“You know how to play, right?” he asks.

“Barely,” I mutter.

His long fingers curl around mine and set my hands in position. “C chord.” He moves one of my fingers down. “G chord.”

“What are you doing?”

“Play it back.”

“I’m not going to—”

His fingers curve around my neck and hold me there. His mouth drops just above my lips, making his intentions known.

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