Page 160 of Sinful Like Us
I carefully watch Jane as she marches to the couch and confronts him. She can handle her own, but it fucking kills me knowing he won’t respect a word she says.
“What?” Tony playfully crosses his arms, still seated.
“I want to know why you laughed like that was an insult,” Jane demands. “Please, share with us.”
Tony lets out another laugh and raises a patronizing hand. “Hey, Jane, it’s okay if your boyfriend wants you to play with his asshole. It just makes him a little less, you know…manly.”
You could hear a pin drop.
I don’t blink. More focused on her anger than anything.
“Someone educate this motherfucker,” Oscar says under his breath.
Farrow catches Maximoff’s wrist before he storms Tony, and he brings his fiancé’s shoulders and back into his chest. “He’s not worth it, wolf scout.”
“First of all—” Jane raises a pointer finger “—men are not less masculinefor having anything in their ass—”
“But it makes them gay,” Tony cuts her off with a smirk.
Jane steeples her hands. “No, it doesn’t. You see, every man has a prostate gland, and prostate stimulation is not an indication of sexual orientation. It feels immensely good to some, and you can enjoy this very much and prefer any gender.”
“There we go,” Farrow says quietly.
Tony leans comfortably back and smiles up at Jane. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself.”
Jane stews. “I feel sorry for you, that you can’t see how insecure you are and how secure he is. He’s a better man than you’ll ever be.”
I hit the jackpot with this girl, and holy hell, I’m smiling.
Until I see a switch in Tony.
His eyes go dark.
It kicks my ass to a stance.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Jane.” He stands, puffing out his chest. “Go sit down—”
“Hey,” I cut in, my stride severe. Urgent. “What the fuck are you doing?!”
Tony uses his height to loom over Jane. To physically intimidate her—and I bolt, fury blasting in my veins, and I draw her behind me in an instant, and I confront him full-force.
I’m not shoving him back.
I’mdonewith that shit.
I fist his shirt and pull him up, his feet off the ground.
He curses me out in Italian and swings. Knuckles bash my jaw, pain lost under adrenaline and rage, and I head-butt the fuckbag and throw him on the floor.
Yells pitch the air. But no one stops us. No one comes to his defense. I’mdonegoing easy on him.
Because he’s family.
Because I know better.
Because I’m too strong and I should use my strength to defend.
Tony scrambles to his feet with a wince. I knock his ass back on the floor, and we’re in a brawl. Fists flying, knees in ribs, and my pulse is ringing in my ear.
