Page 75 of Ruin My Life
For a moment, I think she might give in. Retract those claws of hers. Slide into my lap and dare me to do something I’ll most definitely regret.
My needy cock is practically begging for it.
But then her gun lowers—slowly, deliberately—as those flames in her eyes begin to flicker out. She pulls away from me, stepping back off the bed with a quiet exhale.
And I swear to god, it takes everything in me not to drag her right back.
“So,” she sighs, voice softer now, edged with exhaustion. “You got yourI-told-you-somoment. What now?”
I slip my gun back into its holster. “Now, I call my cleanup crew to deal with that sad sack you just turned into wall art. Then…” I pull out my phone, eyes still on her, “I suggest you reconsider my offer to protect you.”
She grimaces, shaking her head like I’ve just offered to put her on a leash. “I don’t need protection.”
I rise from the bed, letting my full height cast a shadow over her. “You think this was a one-off?” I ask, scoffing. “You think they’ll stop after one failed attempt?”
Her jaw tightens, but I don’t press. Arguing with her isn’t going to help. She’s not stubborn without reason—she’s calculated.
She needs logic. Data.
The truth.
“Lee’s already searching for Lola,” I say, steady and direct. “Once we find her—and whoever she’s working for—weeliminate the threats tobothof us. Then we go our separate ways.”
Her eyes narrow. “You’re not keeping me in a fucking jail cell until this is over.”
I grin. Can’t help it.
“Aw, but it suits you so well.”
She glares at me like she’s two seconds from turning the gun back around.
“Fine,” I say, hands raised in mock surrender. “No cell. You’ll be somewhere secure. SomewhereIcan keep an eye on you.”
There’s a flicker in her eyes—something dark and gleaming. Mischief. Defiance.
“And if I don’t come willingly?” she asks, her voice dripping with challenge.
I close the space between us in a single breath.
My hand wraps around her throat—firm but careful. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to hold her in place. Her eyes go wide as my thumb brushes the delicate line of her jaw, tracing down the curve of her throat until I feel her pulse. Fast. Erratic. Beautiful.
When I lean in close, her breath stutters, and I canfeelher heart hammering beneath my fingers.
Still, she doesn’t look away. Doesn’t blink.
Adorable.
“Do you want to find out, little rose?” I murmur.
She swallows against my palm, sharp hazel eyes boring into mine like she’s trying to decode me. I let her try.
Then I smirk and release her, watching her stumble back a step.
“Whatever,” she snaps, trying to sound unbothered, but her rough, shaky breath betrays her. “Hurry up and call your cleanup crew. I want to get out of here.”
She turns and disappears into the washroom. A second later, I hear the tap running. Water rushing. She’s trying to scrub away some of the blood from her face and hands.
“Don’t get too comfortable in there,” I call through the door. “My guys are fast. They’ll be here in under ten.”
