Page 22

I hang my kutte on the peg behind the living room door and kick off my boots before heading upstairs.

Grim determination carries me straight to the bedroom Birdie has been staying in.

Birdie is at the window, staring out of it with her arms wrapped around her. “You sent the kids away.”

There’s an accusation in her voice.

“I did. Didn’t want you worrying about them tonight.”

She turns to face me, her hand lifting straight to those goddamn pearls.

I run my eyes over her, curling my lip in a snarl as I take her in.

She’s wearing one of the old blouses she rarely wore in the past, along with a pair of tight jeans that hug her juicy ass.

It’s the most proper she’s looked since threw the matches on the clothes she brought with her.

She has her hair pulled up in such a tight bun that her head must be fucking aching.

Makeup covers her face, hiding her natural beauty underneath it.

As beautiful as she is with it on, I want to see her .

Bright red lipstick paints her lips, and I bite my cheek to keep from smiling at her small act of defiance.

She’s told me before how red lipstick signifies resistance for women.

There’s a part of her that’s resisting Frankie’s fucked-up indoctrination.

“Bring them back.”

“No,” I say, prowling toward her.

Her eyes widen as she moves to the side, but I just smile and change direction. My steps are slow and calculated as I stalk her around the room. She aims for the door, but I growl, freezing her in place.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she watches me warily.

“If you run, I will chase you.”

“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice trembling slightly.

“Let her out,” I demand.

She moves again when I get close, and this time, I lead her in the direction I want—to the stand-up mirror next to the vanity with her makeup shit scattered on it.

There’s a sexual charge in the air around us as we dance around the room. It makes my cock ache in the most delicious fucking way possible. Her nipples pebble behind the silky white blouse she’s wearing, and my mouth waters.

Fuck, I want to suck them between my teeth and bite down.

When she’s finally caged against the vanity, I bring our bodies flush together. My cock rests heavily behind my jeans, but I know she can feel it against her thigh. Her head tilts back to look at me while her fingers toy with that fucking necklace.

I watch her eyes for any hint of fear, but the only thing I see in them is heat. It’s not the fire I’m trying to bring out of her, but it’s just as fucking appetizing.

“Let her out,” I repeat.

“Who?” she whispers.

My movements are slow as I lift my hand to the bun on the top of her head. Birdie sucks in a breath and drops the necklace to grab hold of the vanity behind her when I pull out the hair band. Her locks tumbles around her shoulders in luscious red curls.

“Put Eleanora away, little mama,” I murmur, setting my thumb against her bottom lip.

I rub it across the silky lipstick, smearing it across the side of her lip as I try to rub it away. “Bring my Birdie back to me. She’s got some shit to say.”

“I’m right here.”

“No, you’re not. Eleanora is. That is not who the fuck you are.”

Her body quivers as emotions build inside her. She keeps her hands locked tightly around the edge of the vanity, terrified to touch me. That’s good. Really good because her touch is liable to drop me to my fucking knees right now.

I tilt my head, considering.

That wouldn’t be a bad thing since it’d put my face right in front of my favorite place to be.

“Our children are worried about you. Your sister is. I fucking am.”

“I apologize. I’ll do better to reassure you all. There’s no need to worry about me.”

I curl my fingers loosely around the front of her throat, ready to gently reprimand her. She thrashes in my hold, her hands lifting to dig into my wrist as whimpers tear from her throat. Fear floods her eyes.

Fuck .

I swallow tightly, about to release her when she closes them and goes pliant in my hold. Her lips move with silent words, except when I lean closer, they’re not silent at all.

“I’m safe. He’s not him. I’m safe. This is real. He’s not him.”

Over and over, she says the words, and I repeat them back to her. Then she finally goes quiet and opens her eyes.

Fear no longer fills them. Instead, that wicked fucking fire I’ve been waiting for flickers to life.

“That’s right, baby. Fucking burn me alive,” I croon.

“Let me go.”

“Oh, no. We got some shit to work out,” I say, guiding her away from the vanity and turning her until her back rests against my chest.

We’re standing in front of the mirror, so I use my hold on her throat to lift her face so she’s peering into it.

“Who do you see?”

“Me and you.”

I nip her ear, causing her to shiver. “Wrong. Who the fuck do you see when you really look?”

Birdie takes her time perusing herself in the mirror. Her lips purse and her face scrunches, not liking the conclusion she’s come to.

“Who?” I whisper.

“Eleanora,” she murmurs.

“That’s right. She was his. That’s not who the fuck you are here. Here you’re Birdie. And she is mine .”

Birdie snorts. “No, she’s not.”

“Bet.”

I release my hold on her throat and bring both of my hands to the top of her blouse. My smile is all teeth as I pull in different directions. There’s a loud rip and then it’s hanging from her.

Fuck .

I drink in the sight of her perky tits.

She brings her hands up to hide them from my greedy gaze. Her hair smacks me in the face as she whirls around. Flames blaze in the depths of her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Getting rid of Eleanora,” I tell her with a cocky smirk.

“She’s gone,” Birdie replies haughtily.

“Is she?”

My hand reaches behind me to grasp the back of my t-shirt. I pull it over my head and toss it to the floor.

“Put it back on,” she demands, though her eyes eat me up hungrily.

“Not until you get rid of the pieces of her that you’re still holding onto.”

My belt is the next piece to go.

Birdie’s lip curls back as she glares at me. “Fuck you.”

I laugh, sliding my jeans over my hips. “That’s the plan, little mama.”

“Never.”

“Wrong answer,” I taunt as I guide my briefs off.

My cock springs free, smacking against my abdomen, and her eyes drop to it. They widen when she catches sight of the magic cross piercing and the tattoo of her name going down the length.

Her tongue darts out to swipe along her lip, and I groan, wrapping my hand around my length.

“Not happening,” she says suddenly, dropping her arms.

She moves away from me and toward the door again.

“Run, little mama. Go ahead. I didn’t chase you quickly enough the last time you ran, but you best bet, I fucking will this time. So, please . . . please fucking run so I can catch you. Be a good little prey now.”

Defiance and desire tangle in her eyes as she tilts her head with a carnal smile. “Don’t you know, baby? I’m good at running and hiding. Catch me if you can, ainmhí .”

Beast .

Fuck, I haven’t heard her call me that in such a long time.

“When I catch you, you’re fucking mine,” I yell, excitement at the chase causing my dick to leak.

“Only if I say so,” she calls back, her voice growing faint.

I remove the hair band from my hair so it falls around my shoulders as I take off in a sprint after her, my hard cock bobbing right along for the ride.

“Fee, fi, fo, fum, I smell a little Birdie I’m going to make come.”

Preferably all over my face and dick.

After I let her beat my ass a little first.

Because let’s face it, I’ve been a bad fucking guy.