Page 20

CHAPTER 20

Ford

I stare at the bold statement carved into my front lawn. Limp dick asshole .

The corner of my mouth twitches. She must’ve had the determination of a thousand burning suns to dig this into the grass during this torrential rainstorm. But I’m not surprised. When she’s on a chaotic rampage, she’ll stop at nothing. I’ve seen it before. But when it’s turned on me? Well, I can’t help but find it amusing.

The car she drove here is still parked out the front. Saturated from the rain, I step into the house and kick my wet shoes off beside the door. I follow the lingering smell of her scent down the hallway and notice Felix sitting outside my bedroom door, licking himself. He looks kind of wet, and I wonder if he was caught in the rain. I leave the kitchen window open just enough so he can come and go as he pleases. My hope is that one of these days, he’ll decide to stay gone permanently, but the fucker keeps coming back to be fed.

I pause in the doorway of my room. Billie is rummaging through the clothes in my closet, and I take a moment to appreciate her. The cocky woman is so bold and defiant that she didn’t even flee the scene of the crime.

Billie Taylor has balls. More than most men I know because if they committed the same crime against me, they’d be packing their bags and leaving the country.

Not this woman, though.

She lives for the challenge.

She thrives in creating chaos.

She exits the closet wearing one of my shirts that hides her curves, but I know exactly how she looks beneath the material. She stumbles, startled, putting her hand to her chest when she notices me.

And although she’s beautiful and has become my biggest temptation, she’s also been a very bad girl.

“Are you ready to be punished, Chaos?”

She pales, and I can tell she’s uncertain despite being ballsy enough to stay and wait for my reaction.

Her trepidation quickly fades, replaced by a flush of red as she points her finger at me, furious. “Did you burn down that tattoo studio?”

“Yes,” I reply, trying to hide my smirk.

“Why?!” she demands, and I find it so ironic that she comes into my home demanding answers and acting like a fucking saint who’s done no wrong.

“They needed a refurb,” I tell her, then kick the door closed so the fucking cat doesn’t interrupt.

She scoffs with that nose pointed in the air. “That is showing signs of jealousy, Ford. Are you jealous?” She’s intentionally pushing my buttons.

Her hair is damp, and she looks like a fucking goddess that was crafted from the rain itself.

I take a step toward her, and her mouth snaps shut.

“No, they needed a refurb,” I repeat as her back hits the wall, and I grab her by the throat. It bobs beneath my thumb as I graze her jaw. This poisonous little vice of mine is making me act crazy, making me do things I wouldn’t usually do.

Seeing her in my room, wearing my clothes, and smelling like me, has my cock jumping to attention. Mine. Mine. Mine.

I can’t contain myself around her, and it’s a big fucking problem.

She opens her mouth to speak and then shuts it again. It draws my attention, and I trail my thumb along her lips, fascinated. I should walk away from this—from her —so she can find herself a better man. But with that thought, my other hand grips her waist possessively. Even when I think it, my body reacts, needing to feed off her.

She opens her mouth again, and I wait for the smart-ass comment, but instead, she asks seductively, “Have you missed me?”

I’m startled by the question. My grip on her waist tightens, and I release my hold on her throat. I twist her around and push her onto the bed face-first. A small squeak escapes her as I crawl on top of her. That perfect ass is pointed to the ceiling as my shirt bunches around her hips. My mood darkens when I notice she’s not wearing panties.

She looks over her shoulder as I mount her, pressing my groin against her ass.

I slide my hand over her hip and under the shirt, skating up to her tit and grabbing a handful. Fuck me, this woman makes me crazy.

She moans and presses her bare ass and pussy against my soaking wet pants. “Have you?” she asks, almost a little desperately.

“Yes.” She seems surprised by my confession, but I don’t give her much time to think about it as I slap her ass. She buckles under the pain, red immediately blooming along her skin and blemishing her ass cheek beneath the half-finished tattoo. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll go unpunished.”

“For the grass?” She grins mischievously.

“No,” I growl as I fist her hair and yank her head back. She gasps, and I love the way her body perfectly angles into me. Like my own personal fuck toy that couldn’t be more beautifully designed. And she’s wearing my fucking shirt, which I very much want to fuck her in.

“Then what?” she whispers. I rub my thumb against her entrance, mesmerized by the pink pussy I’ve thought about every night since fucking her the first time. I thrust my thumb inside, and she arches, but I tug her head farther back so she can’t embrace her own moans.

Punished.

But her punishment is my own undoing because it strains my patience.

“Tell me, did you want him to touch you?” And the question sounds more feral than I anticipated. I insert a second finger, and she pants, her eyes searching mine as if trying to figure out what I’m referring to. Then her gaze clears as she makes the connection—Mr. Sweater Guy, who’s so fucking lucky I didn’t kill him that night. I remove my fingers and slap her cunt, tearing a scream from her. “I asked you a question.”

“No,” she’s quick to say. I rub my thumb against her entrance again. She’s already soaked. I bring it to my lips and suck; the sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted. She’s transfixed as she watches me.

“Did you want him to kiss you?” I ask before sucking harder on my fingers. I go to insert my fingers in that sweet little cunt again until I see the challenge flick through her gaze.

“Yes.”

My fingers hover at her entrance, and I pull my hand away completely. I release her hair and get off the bed.

“Liar,” I growl. I know she’s fucking playing this game as much as I am.

She quickly scurries to her knees, flushed in the face, her damp hair a tangled mess.

I remove the belt from my pants, and she swallows knowingly, expectantly.

“Do you think he would have fucked you like I do?” I ask, trying to restrain the bite in my tone. I fold the belt over.

“No,” she breaths out and has the good sense to add, “Because no one will ever fuck me the way you do.”

Ain’t that the truth. “You’ll do well to remember that. Now, get on all fours on the floor and crawl to me for your punishment.”

She swallows, glancing between me and the belt in my hand. But she does as she’s told, coming to a stop at my feet. She looks up at me through thick eyelashes, and I adjust my cock. Fuck me, she’s so perfect.

“What if I went on another date? Would you follow me again?” she daringly asks. My energy shifts dangerously. This woman continues to provoke me, even when she’s in the most vulnerable position.

“I would follow you, and I would watch,” I tell her as I trail a finger over her shoulder while I move so I’m positioned between the bed and her ass. She goes to look over her shoulder, but I snap a command. “Stay.”

She grumbles with complaint but remains still. If this little temptress wants to fuck with me and play games, then she’ll find out the consequence.

“And then I would kill him,” I say as I snap the belt on her ass. She yelps, and I’m quick to catch her so she doesn’t fall to the floor.

She’s breathing hard. Maybe this is the thing that will break her. Maybe this is what will push her to leave.

“Fuck me,” she says under her breath, blinking her eyes as if she’s been blinded.

I expect her to get up and leave. To never come back. To put an end to my fixation. But instead, I find myself dropping to my knees behind her. “Are you okay?” I ask, rubbing over the welt on her ass, practically salivating at the blemish on her perfectly smooth skin. I’m tarnishing her one bit at a time.

She looks over her shoulder, and I can tell she’s slightly confused. I’m confused, too.

But she bites her bottom lip and pushes her ass against my crotch.

“If you’re going to make me crawl, you might as well fuck me like an animal on this floor.”

A guttural sound comes from my throat, and it’s the last thread to my control snapping. I undo my pants frantically, needing to be inside her. My soaked clothes are sticking to my body, and I push my hair out of my eyes as I slam my cock into her wet pussy.

She grunts and curses as I pound into her. Her head lowers to the floor as she cries out, gasping and begging for more. Fuck me, the things this woman does to me.

“Turn around,” I order as I pull out of her and yank my jeans off completely. I sit on the carpet, my cock glistening with her juices. She turns and reaches for my dick, but I grab her by the throat and drag her up to hover over my lap.

I wrap the belt around my throat and tighten it at the front, then hand her the end. “I want you to milk my cock, Chaos. I want you to take all that pent-up rage and take it out on me. Curse me. Choke me. Own me.”

“I—” She seems lost for words as she stares into my eyes, realizing how deadly serious I am. I want her to take that hatred out on me. To feed my demons that tell me she’s only using me for my body. To punish me for tarnishing her beautiful skin. But I’m too selfish to step away, and I want to watch her come undone.

This woman is my undoing, and I’m handing her the reins.

Hopefully, the lack of airflow rewires my brain.

Or better yet, maybe she’ll walk out the door.

But instead, her perfectly manicured hands wrap around the belt, and she swallows.

“Will you kiss me if I do this?” she asks.

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. Kiss her?

She doesn’t wait for my answer as she lowers her head to hover her lips over mine. My heart races abnormally, and I fucking hate the way it changes the energy around us. It’s not just animalistic. This little vixen somehow brings something out in me that I’m not used to. Tenderness. Connection. A need other than the physical. It’s completely opposite to what I’m trying to solidify between us.

Yet, I’m at her mercy, unable to deny her. I’d give it all to her—everything I have—whenever she asks. I’d do anything for her but I’m certain there will be a time when she doesn’t want me to, that she’ll see the darkness of what’s inside. So, I waste no time in giving in to her demand as I crush my lips to hers at the same time I slam her down onto my cock. She screams into my mouth, and I swallow the sound. Bite at her lips and overpower her with need as I devour every whimper and moan. This is who I am. She might try to make this into something sickly sweet but I’m anything but.

She yanks on the belt, and it constricts my airway, but it does nothing to lessen my dedication of feasting on her like a starved man.

Billie bounces up and down on my cock as I palm her ass—that beautiful fucking ass—and slowly move my finger toward her asshole.

She pants and pulls away momentarily. “You don’t tell me what to do,” she says as she bounces on my cock and kisses me again. She’s starving for the pleasure I can give her, yanking at the belt as if it’s a new toy. Then she leans back, meeting my gaze, and gives me a look of silent permission. I shove a finger in her ass, mesmerized by the way she arches uncomfortably, and if I were a sane man, I would’ve lubricated the digit first, but I just can’t hold back.

“You’ll do as you’re told,” I rasp, the lack of oxygen feeding my high.

She doesn’t know how much control she truly has over me.

Her tongue is fighting against mine as her pace picks up, and I thrust into her, unable to contain myself.

Fuck, she’s everything.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I say through the pieces of her wet hair that have mixed with our kisses.

Her golden eyes shine brightly as her pace picks up. Then she leans back, tugging the belt with her. I lean forward, kissing down her neck, worshipping her chest, then cutting off my breath completely so I can bite at her nipples.

So fucking perfect.

My heaven and my hell even with a noose around my neck.

If I could lose myself in her every day, I’d forever be a man on a high.

“Ford!” she cries. “I’m so close.”

I lean up for a gasp of air, and I see tears streaming down her beautifully flushed cheeks.

“Slap me,” I tell her. “Show me how angry I made you.”

She doesn’t hesitate this time, slapping me across the face so hard it’s blinding. A jolt runs through my cock, and I jerk inside her. I grab her hips—the only thing keeping me grounded—and she screams, her body contorting when I twist my finger in her ass. She pulls on the belt, restricting my breathing further as I hazily watch her reach the high and come back down.

Her cunt pulses around my cock, milking me, and I can’t help but give her what she wants and needs as I kiss her. Slowly and gently this time. Appreciative of her meeting my every demand. She removes the belt from around my neck and then cups my cheeks as she kisses me back.

I don’t kiss; it’s never felt like there’s a purpose, but with Billie, she teaches me things I’m most likely not worthy of. This gentleness, a leisurely pace as if we have all the time in the world to explore one another, like our encounter isn’t fleeting. I know I shouldn’t feed into her, giving her this, but I can’t stop myself. I want to give into her every demand, even if it’s damning me in the process. I feel like the more attached I become, the more I’m tainting her. I’m not a good man for her but it’s becoming harder to pull away. Even when I do, she does something to demand my attention. The thought of my front lawn brings a smirk to my lips as I kiss her. She’s total chaos.

Billie’s hips roll slowly back and forth as our panting falls into sync with one another, and we stare at each other in disbelief. There’s something else there in her eyes, and I shy away from it. Knowing that she’s too good for me. Acknowledging that I’m still no better than the street rat I was. There’s no way I can fulfill the needs of someone like Billie Taylor. I’ve known from the start I’m temporary, but it’s gone on for much longer than I expected and definitely becoming harder to let go.

“No one will ever fuck me like you do,” she says on a shaky breath. And it’s as good of an apology as either of us can give right now.

I don’t understand this game. But what I know for a fact is we’ll continue coming back to one another, unable to control ourselves.

And it’s so fucking dangerous.