Page 6 of Revenge (Elite of Elmwood 3)

Chapter Two

Brock hauled me out of the house, his grip firm on my legs in case I made a fuss, which I contemplated as I was being ushered through the house, but ultimately decided against. I think I’d created enough drama for Monday. No need to feed more to the hordes.

Butif he kept manhandling and whipping me about, we’d have a problem. He opened the passenger door to his Land Rover, dumping me into the seat. “You know, for someone who has experience in handling women, you executed that poorly,” I said sourly.

Humor tugged at the corner of his mouth, and what a fucking edible mouth. I’d gone too long without the taste of him. “Count your lucky stars all I did was carry you outside. I could have spanked you.”

Why did that sound less like a punishment and more like a promise? “There is something seriously wrong with you. Besides, I would have preferred the spanking.”

He leaned in and captured my mouth with his, causing my entire body to light up like the firefly he called me. Brock ended the kiss too soon for my liking. “And that’s why you love me. We’re both fucked up,” he murmured.

My eyes got hung up on his, and the fire in the aqua depths scrambled my brain. “Perhaps.”

“Stay put, Firefly,” he ordered, snapping my seat belt in place as if to restrain me. The thought had my mind derailing into other ways Brock could restrain me. Apparently the combination of alcohol and almost getting shot made me horny, because all I seemed to be able to think about was how fast I could get Brock out of his clothes.

I rolled my eyes as he shut my door and went around the car. The engine ripped to life after he got in and secured his seat belt. “Where are we going?” I asked, as Brock steered the SUV down his driveway, the gate opening automatically. I folded my hands into my lap to keep my fingers from finding their way onto Brock’s body.

The street his house sat on was loaded with cars parked off to the side. They went for more than a mile and covered the side streets. I didn’t know how the hell Micah, Grayson, and Fynn would get all those people out of there before Brock returned home.

I mean, he was going home, right?

He didn’t think I planned to spend the night with him, did he? But the idea had merit. I missed spending my nights with him. Living in his house for that short time seriously spoiled me.

I shook my head, clearing the tangle of thoughts. The Land Rover was comfy as fuck, but not enough for me to want to sleep in it. Besides, since living with the Edwards, I couldn’t find it in me to let bad girl Josie stay out too late. And not even the temptation of Brock Taylor would mess up my relationship with my birth parents. I couldn’t let it.

Turning left, he replied, “For a ride.”

I studied him. If I looked at Brock too long, my head spun. It could have been the booze too, but most of it was Brock’s face. “Now?”

“Yes, Firefly. We both need it.”

Was that code for something else? Or did he really just want to unwind and work out this adrenaline in my body that wouldn’t seem to go away? But how could it? From humiliating Ava to the moment Carter shut the door behind me to the second I saw Kenna’s face, my heart had been pounding nonstop.

Not all of it was bad. Putting an end to the stupid scheme with Brock and my archenemy had been damn satisfying. The expression on her face. Priceless.

“For how long?” I asked. “I don’t want to get home too late.”

His eyes stayed on the road, but I caught the lifted brow as a car passed on the other side of the road, their headlights shining over his face. “But you have no problem showing up drunk?”

“I’m not drunk,” I disputed. Not entirely. I had been on my way to getting fucking wasted and would have if Brock hadn’t forced me to leave.

“No, but you were trying,” he said, echoing my thoughts.

True. Was that why Brock had insisted we leave? He was keeping me for acting stupid, doing something I’d regret? He was right though. Turning up at the Edwards’ house drunk was not what I wanted to do. They had welcomed me into their home, given me stability and safety. Getting drunk was not how I repaid them.

I sunk deeper into the seat and sighed. “God, do I owe you a thank you?” The crisp evening air trickling in through the window sobered me up.

He slid me a glance, an arrogant smirk hooking his lips. “Don’t worry. I plan on collecting my debt tonight.”

A snort escaped my nostrils even as a thrill went through me. Brock was just the kind of distraction I needed from my mind reliving those minutes with Carter tonight. Before, I’d been concentrated on Kenna, but now it was Brock who kept my focus. “Is that so? What did you have in mind?” I challenged, glancing at his profile.

He whipped the steering wheel to the right, jerking me in my seat. The Land Rover came to a sudden halt off the side of the road as gravel spit off the tires. Another car honked as it sped past, but neither Brock nor I cared. His eyes captured mine as he shifted in the seat to face me. “This.” He leaned over the center console, cupping his hand behind my head, and pulled me toward him as his lips slammed over mine.

Heat. So much damn heat flared between us. It felt like if we kept kissing, one of us would get burned. Or both of us. But neither of us gave a shit.

I sighed into his mouth, and his tongue swept in, caressing mine. He was mine. Brock fucking Taylor was mine. I wanted to savor the high that soared through me at the knowledge. I don’t know what I did to get an Elite to fall in love with me, but I wanted to hear him tell me the words again.

I’d never get tired of hearing them. Not from his lips.

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