Page 53 of The Tangle of Awful

Stalking over to her, I feel a slight thrill when she backs away, fear glinting in her eyes. Good. I want her to be afraid. Fucking around with us both is not okay. She needs to know that, even if I have to spank her ass to get the point across.

I grab onto her delicate jaw and push her against the doorframe. Her eyes grow huge, filled with confusion.

“Why?” I demand, fingers biting slightly into her skin. “Why did you do it?”

She swallows hard and frowns. “Why what?”

I crowd her further, letting her feel the strength and power emanating from me. My dick is hard as stone. There’s no denying it. But I can keep that in check. My anger, however, is another beast altogether.

“Don’t play stupid, Love. You kissed my son.”

She flinches at my words and blinks furiously. My guess is she’s combatting tears. I have this overwhelming urge to make her cry—to make her feel one iota of the pain I’m feeling right now. “Hugo—”

“So it’s true?” I demand. “Did you fuck him too?”

Unfair. Un-fucking-fair.

Her pretty eyes flood with the tears I crave so badly, spilling over her crimson cheeks.

“I thought,” I start, biting back a snarl of rage. “I thought you wanted me.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Don’t go there, man.

She sniffles and her bottom lip trembles. “I did, but you said—”

“I didn’t say you could fuck my son!” I roar, my voice booming so loud I’m sure I could rattle both our bones.

A sob catches in her throat, reminding me of when she was sixteen—a sweet-faced young kid who didn’t hurt people. My girl. My Aubrey Love. Guilt comes smashing into me and the grip I have on her jaw loosens.

I should pull away and go drown myself in something expensive from my bar.

I don’t.

That would be smart and apparently, with Aubrey, I’m pretty fucking stupid. The desire to erase my own goddamn son from her lips has me doing the unthinkable.

I kiss her.

Not sweetly or exploring in nature.

No, I kiss her like I ache to fuck her—claiming, brutally, savage. My groan of need pours out of me as I lash at her tongue with mine. Her mewl sends fire straight to my dick. I pin her against the doorframe with my hips, letting her feel just how hard I am for her.

I could claim her right here.

All it would take is ripping her plush towel away and sliding inside her tight heat. I could do it. It would satisfy every male craving inside me. I could finally get something I desperately want.

And then what?

Visions of the media circus are a cold shower on my need for her. I start to pull away, quickly retreating from this clusterfuck I’m all wrapped up in.

“Hugo,” she whimpers. “Not again.”

She can’t take the rejection again.

I get it. I feel for her. I do. But it’s something she’s going to have to deal with because this can’t happen. It just can’t.

Her hand slides down and she boldly cups it over my dick. Fire burns through me at her eager touch. I let out an embarrassing moan as she rubs against me.

“I didn’t fuck him.” Her teeth capture her bottom lip and her doe eyes implore me to believe her. “I don’t want him. I want you.”

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