Page 8 of Revenge (Elite of Elmwood 3)

His eyes narrowed as his jaw flexed, a small movement I found so fucking hot. “Depends. Do you mean when I fell in love with you or when I admitted to myself that I was in love with you?”

“Is there a difference?” I tossed back at him.

A dark brow arched.

“Fine. Both,” I clarified, not settling for one or the other. I wanted it all.

He sucked on his bottom lip and groaned. “You would need to know both. It isn’t just enough that I said the words out loud. I honestly am not sure the exact moment I fell for you. Several memories come to mind. But I do know the exact moment I finally admitted it to myself.”

“The suspense is killing me,” I said, grinning.

His eyes stayed fixed on mine. “Tonight. That shit you pulled on Ava, undermining what I had planned, I knew you weren’t just some other girl. Only someone with a mind as wicked as mine could be someone I fell in love with.”

Surprise flickered over me. “Great, so it was my corrupt nature that made you fall for me.”

“That and your ass,” he said with a roguish smirk. “I really love your ass.”

I rolled my eyes. “Touché. You have a pretty glorious ass yourself, Taylor.”

His glittering eyes lost some of their lightness, and I sensed things were about to get serious. “Despite your glorious ass, what you did tonight was reckless. Ava might not be as insane as Carter, but she is unpredictable. She won’t forget what you did.”

Something dark twisted and coiled inside me as those unwanted memories of Carter slipped into my mind. I wanted to shove them aside and cling to the good Brock brought into my life, but it wasn’t as simple as wanting it. “If you’re waiting for me to apologize for stealing your thunder, don’t hold your breath. I don’t regret for one second embarrassing her in front of everyone. Not after everything she has done to me. She deserves so much more than to be used.”

He tucked on the strand of hair coiled around his finger, bringing my face closer to his. “God, I love it when you talk vengeance. It’s so damn hot.”

“There is something seriously wrong with you.”

His lips curved into a naughty grin. “Now that you’re mine, you’re about to find out just how messed up I really am.”

The knot that had begun to tighten in my stomach unraveled. “Good. Because I’m just as fucked up.”

He released the curl of my hair, yet keeping his face close to mine. “And that’s what makes you perfect for me.”

My heart picked up as his eyes lowered to my lips, and I felt them curve. “Glad we had this talk.”

“So am I, except I’m done talking.” His lips descended upon mine. He possessed me. My heart. My body. My soul. I was what I promised myself I’d never be—owned by one of the Elite. And the only reason I was okay with it was because I owned Brock. We owned each other.

A half hour later, Brock killed the headlights as he pulled into the Edwards’ driveway. Grayson’s car was already there, at least the one he had taken to the party tonight, which meant he and Kenna were already home.

Brock kissed me again before I reached for the door handle. “Firefly, be careful with Kenna.”

I threw him a look over my shoulder as I hopped out of the Range Rover, my lips curling slightly. “Don’t worry, Taylor, I won’t warp her too much.” And before he could lecture me, I blew him a kiss and shut the door. Something about the stress lines that appeared on his forehead created a bead of uneasiness in my gut.

It could also be that I was alone for the first time since the incident with Carter. Despite not wanting my brain to dwell on those memories, I knew they would haunt me tonight.

Keying in the door code, I softly pushed it open and closed it behind me with a quiet click. I glanced out the window panels to watch Brock’s SUV rolled in reverse down the driveway.

A faint sigh left me, and I pressed a finger to my lips, remembering the feel of his mouth on mine—the taste of him.

Spinning around, I headed toward the stairs until a soft yellow light caught my eye down the hall. Changing directions, I followed the light that came from the kitchen. As I drew closer, hushed voices murmured into the hallway. Curious about who was still up at this hour, I tiptoed through the dark hallway and peered into the kitchen.

Kenna and Grayson were gathered around the island in the center of the room, a variety of snacks spread over the counter.

Grayson lifted his gaze as I lingered in the doorway, wrestling with the decision to either turn back around unnoticed or clear my throat. They looked so natural and comfortable, as if they hadn’t been separated the last two years. I wasn’t sure I should interrupt, but it was too late now. “You just getting in?” Grayson asked, spotting me.

I nodded and eased into the room, taking a seat at one of the barstools along the island. “Yeah.”

Grayson pushed the bowl of salsa toward me. “Late-night snack?”

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