Page 68 of Merciless

“Not really.” I smile sweetly at him as he stops in the doorway and crosses his inked arms over his chest.

“So you didn’t take them off to seduce him then?”

“What if I did?” I ask. “Maybe I gave him a full show, stripped down to nothing and let him see what he’s never going to get.”

Reid’s jaw ticks as he studies me, letting me know that I’m getting to him.

“Did you want that too? It’ll be quicker, seeing as he’s stolen a layer, but I’m up for it you are. I’m nothing but a whore anyway, so I may as well make use of the goods God gave me.”

Uncrossing my legs, I spread my knees. But he doesn’t take the bait.

“I can’t be as easily played as JD, Pet. It would do you well to remember that.”

“Nor can I,” I counter. “Oh, how was your meeting with Daddy yesterday? Did he have anything interesting to say?”

He clenches his jaw.

I wince. “Was I not meant to know about that? Whoops. Naughty JD. I hope you’re going to punish him like you are me. Feel free to throw him into my cell. I think we could have some fun.”

He smirks at me before pushing from the wall and walking behind me. Seeing as I’m not bound to the chair this time, I’m able to twist around and watch him as he starts the coffee machine.

“Latte for me, please,” I order, making him snort in amusement.

While his coffee grinds, he reaches into a cupboard and pulls out a glass, which he fills with water and passes over.

“You’ve already proven that all you do with my coffee is waste it,” he mutters.

“Maybe I wouldn’t if you didn’t try to singe my lips off with it.”

“Not my fault you can’t take the heat.”

I shake my head at him.

The temptation to throw it at him is strong, but my need to relieve my dry throat is stronger.

“So what’s the plan then, Big Man? More cold showers? Waterboarding? Maybe you’re going to do a one-eighty and turn up the heat today with fire.”

His eyes twitch as does my mouth. My overconfident word vomit has always been a flaw that’s got me into more trouble than necessary with the men of this town when I’m backed into a corner.

“Why are you still talking?”

“Because I can.” Probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever said because the next thing I know, he’s walking toward me with a dirty rag.

His smirk is wicked and full of dark intentions.

My thighs clench as he moves closer, the threat of something delicious sparkling in his eyes.

I gasp as the rag is pressed against my lips, but me being me, I refuse to make this easy for him.

“Pet,” he growls, irritated by my disobedience.

Get used to it, baby. It’s going to take a lot to beat it out of me.

I smirk, my eyes crinkling with amusement, while his continues to grow darker.

Our battle of wills stretches out, neither of us willing to crack.

I see the second his patience runs out. His left eye twitches a beat before the fabric loosens, but I only get a beat of relief before his hand wraps around my throat.

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