Page 22 of Savage Revenge

“You know what you did,” I growl. “Quit flirting with her.”

Beckett smirks. “What? I’m single. She’s hot. I have eyes and a dick.”

I glare at my brother, irritation and anger prickling at the back of my neck. “I’m serious,” I grit out.

“I can tell.” He’s still grinning. “You always get this twitch in your jaw when you’re feeling territorial.”

“Beckett,” I warn in a dangerously lethal tone. “I swear to God, if you don’t knock it off, I’ll tear you apart limb from limb.”

That makes him laugh.

Fucking asshole.

“You’re in deep already, big brother. Admit it,” Beckett quips, clearly proud of himself for hitting a nerve.

Xander mutters under his breath, “Jesus Christ.”

And I don’t say anything because, even though I want to deny it, I know deep in my heart that it would be a lie.

“Get the fuck out of my office,” I snap instead.

Sometimes being so close to my brothers is a huge pain in the ass.

Twenty minutes later,I have a bundle of soft sweats and T-shirts clenched in one hand. She wanted clothes. Fine. She’ll get mine.

And fuck if I don’t like the thought of Jordyn wearing my stuff.

I don’t bother knocking. I walk right in and find her sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, filing her damn nails like she’s at a spa instead of a locked-down billionaire’s house. I’m sure the nail file was given to her by one of my housekeepers, along with who knows what else. It wouldn’t surprise me if those two are already spoiling the hell out of Jordyn.

She looks up, unimpressed. “You ever heard of knocking?”

I raise my eyebrows. “This is my house.”

She tilts her head. “This ismyroom.”

“You need to quit being such a sassy fucking brat. I’m only going to allow you to get away with it for so long, kitten.”

Instead of replying, she focuses on her nails again.

“What are you doing?”

Without looking up, she answers sweetly, “I’m filing my nails into sharp points so I can claw your eyes out.”

Oh, this brat. My palm tingles, and my dick twitches. She is pushing every single button, and she doesn’t even realize it.

I stalk forward. Her head jerks up, breath hitching as I close the space between us. I stop right in front of her, lean down until I’m eye level with both hands planted firmly on the mattress beside her hips.

“Do it,” I murmur.

She goes still. Her file halts mid-stroke. We lock eyes, and the air shifts. Crackles of electricity charged and heavy hangs between us.

“Do it, kitten. I fucking dare you.”

She doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t move.

“Every time you say shit like that, it makes my dick hard. But I think you already know that, don’t you?”

Her eyes darken with fury and something else, and I don’t miss the way her nipples pebble under her blouse. She feels it too and her cheeks turn pink.

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