Page 101 of Twisted Play
“Catching a bus home,” she said, shaking her head in confusion. “I lost track of time studying.”
On the other side of town. In a neighborhood known for violence perpetuated by organized crime. With her piece of shit father.
“Where are Cole and Tristan?”
Her eyes widened, and I cursed at myself for revealing how closely I watched her. “They?—”
It didn’t fucking matter. “Get the fuck in the car,” I growled at her.
“Sir?” she practically squeaked. “I’m taking the bus.”
The fuck she was. Sweet, innocent Eva, on a public bus at this time at night? She was mine to torture, mine to ruin, and I’d be damned if I was going to let her take the bus home. “Get in the car.”
“Coach, I don’t live close,” she said. “I’m happy to take the bus. It’s an hour of quiet at the end of a long day.”
A fucking hour. The rage tightening my muscles must have shown in my expression, because Eva took a step back. My imagination ran wild at the thought of catching her, forcing her to her knees, making her do my bidding.
“Get in the fucking car,” I growled.
“Sir—”
“If you make me repeat myself again, I will get out there and drag you in,” I snapped, and Jesus fucking Christ, she licked her lips as if she liked the idea.
“I live?—”
“Eva.”
Her breath caught and her eyes went wide, and fuck me, she looked delicious silhouetted by the light of the bus stop. She waited for a long moment, so long I thought she would refuse the ride, and then reached up to pull herself in,struggling to manage that damnable tote bag and the height of the car while not flashing anyone.
Annoyed at myself for the pang of longing that shot through me, I snatched her bag out of her hand and threw it in the backseat, heedless of the contents that spilled out.
Eva sank into the passenger seat, and the scent of her—sweet vanilla and something fruity—filled my car, making my mouth water. My fingers tightened on the wheel as I fought the urge to reach over and touch her soft skin. Disgusting. I was exactly the kind of predator I should be protecting girls like her from, yet here I was, drinking in the sight of her bare thighs against my leather seats, imagining them wrapped around my waist as I—No.Focus on why she’s here. On who her father is. On revenge. Anything but how much I wanted her and how much I wanted to protect her.
“Sir, I don’t want to be an imposition.”
“Seatbelt,” I snapped, and she hurriedly drew it across her chest. Christ on a crutch, I found myself envious of the strap nestled between her full breasts.
I handed her my phone. “Enter the address into the maps app.”
She did, shaking all the while. In a car, it would only take thirty minutes.
I revved the engine, and we took off.
“Thank you for picking me up,” she said tentatively.
Of course I’d stopped to pick her up. What kind of man left a vulnerable woman, practically a child, standing alone at night, dressed like that, a temptation for any man who saw her?
Even if her father was the devil. Even if I intended to use her to take my revenge. Even if I couldn’t stop remembering the gorgeous noises she made when she sucked my cock.
“I know it’s out of your way,” she continued.
I looked at her sharply. “How do you know that?”
Eva’s eyes widened, and she shrank back into her seat. My protective instincts reared up, and I wanted to reassure her she had nothing to fear, that all I wanted was to see her safely home. But it was a lie, wasn’t it?
“I assumed,” she said softly. “I don’t live in a nice part of town.”
“I don’t live in a nice part of town,Sir,” I snarled.
