“Are you planning on killing me? Or is that just reserved for women?”
I grin and take a sip. “I don’t plan these things. Not really.”
“So, then maybe I should take care of you right now. I could live in peace without the worry that you’ll run your mouth or decide to try to kill me one day.”
“I wouldn’t kill you, Ezra.”
“You couldn’t kill me, Kaspian.”
I bite my bottom lip before a smile takes over. “Don’t underestimate me.”
“Don’t play with me.”
“Like this?” I say, chancing a step in his direction as I slide my fingers into his waistband again.
His hand is around my throat in an instant. “If you even think about saying anything to anyone, I will end you before you even realize I’m a threat.”
“You’re always a threat.”
“Don’t forget it.” He eases his grip but keeps his hand in place. It’s probably because he just likes touching me, but I don’t mind it.
“We could work together.”
“What we do is different, and I don’t work well with others.”
My fingers unsnap the button before dragging his zipper down. “We’re similar, you and I. It could be fun.”
“I don’t have a reason to anymore.” He struggles to get the sentence out, long pauses between the words.
“Oh, you don’t think I believe that, do you? Maybe you had a reason to kill the first two, but what about the others? Was there a reason? Or did you simply have a need? An urge?”
I start to tug his pants and underwear down, and he keeps watching me.
“I told you. I don’t want to have to worry about moving again. I’m fine with the way things are now.”
“Are you?” I question. “Really?”
He ignores me, because he knows his answer would be a lie. “Now that you’ve gotten my attention, what’re you planning on doing next? Find more girls to follow?”
My fingers wrap around his shaft. “Would that make you jealous?”
He moans as I drag my fist down to his crown. “No. There’s nothing between us.”
My nostrils flare when I look at him. “I wouldn’t say that.”
His hand moves from my throat to my hair, yanking on the strands until my head is as far back as it can go. “You want me now, huh? That’s what this is? You’ve used the girls, you’ve killed them, and it’s my turn, right? You want me to take care of you? I’m supposed to fawn over you, care where you are and who you’re with? You want me to be the daddy you likely didn’t have? Is that it?”
I suck in deep breath through my nostrils, rage running through my veins as I clench my jaw. “Don’t. Do not mention him.”
His lips curl up into a snarl. Hardly a smile, but he’s amused. “Ah, I’m starting to understand. Daddy didn’t give you what you needed.”
“Shut up,” I say, releasing my grip on his cock and trying to push away.
He tightens his hold on my hair assuring I can’t go anywhere. He’s got maybe fifteen pounds on me, and it’s all muscle.
“Daddy didn’t give you any attention, did he? He didn’t care about you. Wasn’t there for you. Maybe he didn’t love you. Daddy ignored you, didn’t he?” His tone is nothing but mocking hostility.
“Stop it. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
His arm wraps around my back to keep me from fighting out of his grip, pinning my arms down in the process. He smashes me into him, his expression wicked. This isn’t Ezra. It’s Quintin.
“That’s why you need a man to obsess over you. You want that father figure, right? I’m guessing dear old Dad didn’t discipline you either. You seek it out in men. That’s why you like them dominant.”
“You couldn’t be dominant if you tried,” I sneer. “Mr. I-have-to-have-reasons. There’s no fucking moral code to killing. You don’t get to make up an excuse to justify why you did it. You did it because you fucking wanted to. If you can’t admit that, then—”
I’m spinning. He doesn’t let me finish my rant, because he releases his hold on me just to swirl me around and bend me over the kitchen counter. His cock presses into my ass while his hand comes down on the side of my head, pressing my cheek to the cold granite.
“Shut the fuck up.” His voice is like gravel—rough, and it sends a thrill up my spine. “You like commanding men? Then do what the fuck I say and stay there.”
He walks around me, his hand moving to my back while he uses his other one to open up drawers.
“What are you looking for?”
“A knife? You gonna kill me?”
A drawer slams shut, and when he has to lean over to open the next one, his hand on my back lifts slightly, so I take the opportunity and run.