Page 52 of Collateral Claim
Scarlett looks up, her face soaking wet from the rain. “You bring out the worst in me.”
She’s very kissable right now. I should sit back in the car and kindly fuck off. But kindness is for saints. With sinners, there’s always a motive, something we get from our actions, unconsciously or otherwise. It’s just how we’re made, and I embrace it because there’s no changing it.
“Tell me, when people donate money to your charity, do they get something in return?”
“Usually, yes. A dinner. A house call.”
“Those old ladies got a dance and a date from me.”
“What do you want, Macarley?”
“A kiss.”
Chapter 22
The kiss
Scarlett
Rain falls so hard that it’s starting to penetrate the thick forest trees providing us with cover. It’s why I probably haven’t heard Endo say what I think he said.
“A kiss?” I ask.
Water slides down his hair and drips onto his face and nose. The urge to swipe the hair away from his forehead is so strong that I have to put my hands behind my back in order not to do it.
“How much is your kiss worth?”
When he speaks, rain slides down his lips, and he licks the drops away, then sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s both feral and sexy, and I don’t know how to behave around him. I kicked him in the shin, for fuck’s sake, and I never kicked anyone before, not even Hamid from first grade, who used to pull my ponytail every time he walked by me. That was super annoying, and I put up with it for years before his parents moved to another city and he changed private schools.
I’m a fish out of water. Even my mouth opens and closes like one. “If I sold a kiss for charity,” I say, keeping it professional and distant and whatever I can think of besides what I’m actually feeling when he’s standing in front of me, soaking wet and asking for the price of my affection. It’s both humbling and empowering, but it would be immoral if I let him kiss me. He’s my captor and my dad’s enemy.
Endo sneaks a hand behind my neck and pulls me in. His lips close over mine. He lingers, not wanting to separate, it seems. I begin to push him away but grab his shirt instead. Oh God, this is so wrong.
“I took a taste from you,” he says. “You don’t have to make the choice. But if you stop giving fucks about what society considers right or what your dad says, or your sister, or even your conditioned mind, you will find satisfaction in indulging in sinful things and thoughts. Selling your kiss is a great start. Now, enjoy the heck of it. I know I will.” He kisses me again, this time seeking entry into my mouth.
His cologne is fresh and potent when the rain touches it. My mouth is closed.
“The question isn’t how much my kiss is worth,” I say against his lips, the rain muffling my words. “But what this kiss will cost me.”
“You should kiss me back and find out.” Endo’s thumb slides over my skin as he whispers, “Or don’t. Maybe you want to resist. Maybe you like that I took a kiss from you. This way, you can deny that you wanted it in the first place. You can deny that you did anything wrong. You can say I took it. You can keep telling yourself that I’m the villain, the bad guy.” He kisses me again. “I don’t give a fuck what you tell yourself for as long as you and I know the truth. Now, close your eyes while we make out like seniors in the hallway.”
Endo kisses me slowly, as if giving me time to reject him, while at the same time making it impossible to do so because he knows what he’s doing. Coaxing my lips apart, stroking my skin as his palm warms the back of my neck. When he gently bites my lower lip, I inhale a sharp breath, and he uses my shock to slide his tongue inside.
At the taste of him, my eyes flutter closed.
Kissing Endo makes my knees weak and my heart pound, but not with fear. With something else, something that feels suspiciously like excitement. But denial is strong within me, so I convince myself the excitement fluttering in my chest is fear, even when it’s not.
I offer him the taste he asked for. I touch his tongue with mine, and his grip on the back of my neck tightens.
Endo opens his mouth wider, deepening the kiss. My hands rest on his chest, and under my palm, his muscles flex. He steps forward and presses his chest against my breasts. I fist his shirt and pull him toward me even more.
Endo takes the hint.
He grabs my ass and lifts me up against him. Our kiss grows feverish. My fists wind tightly around his shirt, and when he slides a palm down my thigh and lifts one leg to hang it over his hip, my clit rubs against his hard middle, and I almost come in my panties.
Something rips, and buttons pop. Startled, I open my eyes, and Endo pulls back and looks down at his shirt.
Two of his top buttons are missing. I ripped them off with my hands. Oh my God, I am a savage. (He probably likes that.)
