Page 161 of Only for Him

She smells like she needs me to fuck her fire back into her.

She shoves me, hard, and my cock stiffens. Yes…

I want to see her fight.

When she fights, she remembers. When she remembers, she surrenders.

“I’ll put you away for this,” she says. “I’ll take you down, and then I’ll go back to my life.”

“No, you won’t,” I say, calm. “You won’t have a life without me, little viper. You won’t even be able to breathe.”

She’s panting now, wild-eyed. “Then I’ll fucking shoot you. Then no one gets what they want.”

“Maybe you should,” I say, testing her. I want to laugh. What fucking stage of denial is this? “But you won’t.”

She pulls her gun and holds it in both hands. The barrel is steady but her arms are trembling.

I remember holding that gun in her throat the first time she came for me. Back then, she grinded recklessly on my thighwhile I choked her on this very same metal in this very same room. It was so fucking good and she was so fucking beautiful.

“This time the firing pin is in,” she says, teeth bared. She’s thinking of it, too. I can tell. I can almost see the memory playing in her eyes. Her pupils dilate.

I smirk, take a step toward her. “Then do it.”

She hesitates, and I see the war on her face. I want to tell her that I know how badly she needed redemption for entering my DNA into the system, and that this is it.

This is her chance to prove where her loyalties lie.

She’ll regret it if she fails. But I’ll regret it even more if she doesn’t.

“You want me dead, Giselle?” I say, calling her bluff. “Pull the fucking trigger.”

And then she actually fuckingdoes.

The bullet punches my left shoulder, spinning me back. I slam against the wall. For a second there’s only pain, white-hot and absolute.

Then comes the fury.

41

GISELLE

The gunshot blowsthe world open. My breath saws in and out, sharp and shallow.

Have I lost my ever-loving mind?

Did I just fucking shoot Roman?

Well, is Russo really dead in my goddamn apartment?

I’m feeling too much. Rage, guilt, death, redemption, grace, desire—it’s all inside me right now, and it all came out in the squeeze of the trigger. My ears ring in the metallic echo.

Because I did it. He dared me to, and I did it.

Fuck!I shot him. I actually fucking shot him.

Roman’s hand clutches his shoulder. Not his heart, thank God. He’ll live. He has to.

What the fuck, Giselle? You’re not supposed to want him to live. You’re supposed to shoot to kill because he deserves to fucking die. After all he’s done? After dragging you into everything with him?