Page 39 of The Retaliation You Deliver

“Fuck you,” she hisses, going for the door but quickly finding it locked. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I don’t think you’re really in a position to make demands, baby.”

I start the car and then turn to look at her, a wicked smile curling at my lips.

Her hair is a wild mess of curls around her face, her cheeks are red, both from hanging upside down I’m sure.

Her dress is all twisted ensuring she’s showing off even more cleavage than she was when she first stumbled out of the house, and her dress is so high up on her hips I can see her black panties covering her pussy.

“What?” she barks, her nails digging into the sides of the seat, her chest still heaving. If she’s trying to pretend I don’t affect her then she’s doing a really shit job.

“You’ve got no idea, do you?” My brows pull together as I stare at her, unable to believe she doesn’t know how fucking hot she looks right now.

She’s like my kryptonite.

I know I shouldn’t touch her but fuck if I can help myself.

“Just drive and get this over with so I can go home.”

“Careful, Red. Anyone would think you don’t want to spend the night with me.”

“I don’t,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and staring out of the windshield as if I’m not even here.

A chuckle falls from my lips.

“Pretend all you like, baby. I can read you like a book.”

“Oh yeah. So you know how I’m planning on killing you?” She shoots me a wicked look that only makes my cock harder.

“No. But I do know that you’re wet as fuck for me right now.”

She scoffs.

“You’re delusional, Leon.”

“Been called worse, Red.”

I floor the gas, my wheels spinning as we speed away from the house.

Luca, Peyton, Kane and Letty are still standing in the front yard staring at us but I barely look at them. I don’t care about their opinions. They’ve made enough bad decisions in the past few months that none of them can criticize me right now.

“Where are we going?” Macie demands when I fly past the turnoff toward her dorm building.

My teeth grind as her soft, slightly slurred voice flows through me.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“How is that any of your business?”

“Because you don’t drink, or party, yet here you are.”

“Yeah well, excuse me if I need a way to forget what happened recently,” she spits.

“Try doing that for the last decade.”

“You’re a selfish asshole, you know that?”

“Me?’ I ask, all the air rushing from my lungs in shock.