Page 42 of Rev

“Yeah. You, gettin’ a different job.”

I lift the folded stack of bills. “I dunno, Rev. There’s gotta be a couple hundred bucks here. At this rate, I could afford a safer place to stay.”

“Or you could leave Vegas.”

“Or not. I like it here.”

He frowns. “Bullshit. No onelikesit here. You getstuckhere. You getsucked in, here.”

I smirk at him. “Maybe I’m just here for the scenery.”

That jaw pulses, again. That subtle sense of amusement, not quite visible on his face, but felt. Gosh and golly, when his jaw pulses, one side and then the other? I just want to lick his skin where it moves. Even his jaw is strong.

I suppress a sigh. I’ve got it bad, and he can’t stand me.

Such is my life.

He gets close to me. Takes the beer from my hand and sets it on a nearby rack of napkins and straws. His presence is stifling, his closeness overpowering. He smells good—sweat, cologne, aftershave. I don’t breathe, can’t, not when he’s inches from me. His fists press into the wall beside my ears, arms like pillars.

I’m boxed in. Imprisoned.

It’s exhilarating, intoxicating, and terrifying.

“What do youwant, Myka?” He breathes—it’s the threatening purr of an annoyed lion.

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

His face gets closer; I could kiss him, he’s so close. “Bullshit.”

I meet his eyes—I see a world in them, a universe of unknowable thoughts and hidden feelings in their dark depths. “You.”

“You don’t know the first fuckin’ thing about me, woman.” He straightens, and this brings him closer yet, so my breasts smush against his chest, his hips against mine. I’m choking on the overwhelming masculine, sexual, primal power that is Rev. “You don’twantto know the first fuckin’ thing about me.”

“Try me,” I whisper, foolish bravado propelling the words from my lips.

“Fuck,” he snarls. “Playin’ with fire, girl.”

His eyes glitter, a slow blink covering them, and then he’s closer. His hand steals behind my neck, clamps hard—yanks me forward even as he slams into me, crushing me against the wall. Pinning me. His hard hips drive me backward, and his hand on my neck moves to palm the back of my head. A moment, where I’m trapped and overpowered, and intoxicated by all that is him.

“You like it like this?” he murmurs.

I gasp—it’s not quite a whimper, but close.

Is it a yes, or a no? Even I’m not sure.

He lets go of my neck, and his hands snatch mine. Both of my hands in one of his, lifted over my head and slammed hard against the wall overhead. He’s crushing me, his hard body ungiving.

I’m utterly helpless.

His mouth hits mine with bruising force, and his tongue forces my jaw open, and he takes my mouth.Takesit.

“This how you want it, Myka?” His voice is so low, so quiet I almost can’t hear it, but I can feel it, can feel the words. Feel the rumble against my throat, my lips, my chest. “This is what you get, with me.”

“I—Rev…”

He presses harder against my body, forcing me flatter against the wall, his body flat against mine, my soft curves against his hard angles; he kisses me again, brutally hard. Tongue slashing, lips demanding.

I feel him hardening against my belly.