Page 57 of Severed By Vengeance

“Eva, I’m just trying to understand. I don’t want to repeat what happened today.”

I covered my face with my hands and sighed heavily.

“Look, I was just stupid one night and drank too much. I paid for it with lifelong trauma and a stint in the hospital with low glucose levels. Young and dumb.”

“Was he a boyfriend? A friend?”

“He’s nobody. No one I ever want to think about.”

“Angel,” he said, frustration lacing his tone, “tell me his name.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “That was years ago. What? You’re going to find all my childhood bullies and beat them up too? If you are, please start with this little shithead named Trent Almstead. He shoved me off our school playground, and I broke my wrist.”

I held up my arm, showing him the faint scars from the surgery I’d had when I was seven. My little gymnast heart had been so torn up because it happened in the middle of the competition season.

He gently pulled my wrist closer to his face, feathering his lips over my scars. Goosebumps broke across my skin under his touch.

“I’ll take care of him for you. Break his kneecaps.”

“That was in the second grade. I’m sure Trent has matured some since. And I don’t want you committing felonies on my behalf.”

He scoffed, a knowing smirk on his face. The crazy part was that, somehow, I knew he wasn’t entirely joking, and that fact both thrilled and terrified me.

“I don’t take lightly to anyone touching or harming what’s mine.”

There it was again. That word settled deep into the pit of my belly, sending another rush of wetness between my legs. He had to know—had to feel the heat of me over his lap. I was wearing thin leggings, and it was as if every word out of his mouth was hot-wired to my libido.

I gripped his collar. “What makes you think I’m yours, Derek Cain? You barely know me.”

“I know enough.” His tongue licked along the hollow of my throat. “You’re the kind of woman who risks their career and safety over a girl she has no blood ties or obligations to.” Wet, hard kisses traveled up my throat. “You save stray, bastard cats from junkyard ditches. True to your namesake.”

“Derek… what are you doing?” I moaned, head falling back as he nibbled on my earlobe.

“But you’re no angel, are you? I can feel how wet that sweet little cunt is for me. Goddamn, Eva, you’re going to soak straight through my pants.”

Derek thrust up into me, and another breathy moan slipped past my lips. He leaned in and brushed his mouth over mine, but instead of kissing me, he took my bottom lip between his teeth and tugged gently.

“I’m going to fuck you, Eva. I’m going to taste and savor every damn inch of you. In my bed, in my room—on every goddamn surface of my house.”

Shit. I nearly came, right there on his lap, with just his filthy words.

“She’s mine,” he said, slipping a hand between us, grin widening when his fingers slid across the soaked fabric. “Fuck, yes, she’s mine.”

The room was suddenly too damn hot. If this man didn’t fuck me right here, right now, I was sure to combust.

I leaned forward, willing to risk it all for Derek Cain, but just before our lips could finally come together, the chime of my doorbell was the ice bucket we probably needed.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

EVANGELINA

Fuck. How had I forgotten?

As I opened the Door app on my phone, I saw two familiar brunettes bouncing up and down excitedly in front of my camera.

“You’re expecting guests?”

“I’m so sorry. Tonight completely slipped my mind. It’s my cousin and a good friend. Today is the premiere of this new murder mystery show and—”