Page 24 of Troublemaker

I shook my head, smiling and approaching him. “I want to.”

Reaching up, I pulled his head down to mine, kissing him open mouthed and eager, because I was going to act like I wanted him until I actually did. With a groan, he kissed me back, pushing me toward the bed as he slid the straps of my dress over my shoulders and tugged it down my body.

Pausing, he looked at my breasts in the red lace bra and shook his head.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured. Bending down, he kissed my neck.

Nothing.

My clavicle.

Still nothing.

Making his way down to my breasts, I steeled myself for feeling more of nothing. Boys had done similar things to me before. I’d even let one get to second base in the past, and I had a feeling this was going to suck as much as that had. Also, I was worried the sex itself was going to hurt. Fortunately, I always came prepared. I had lube and condoms, and hopefully the combo would?—

The door burst open with a loud crack and bang. And then Sam was being dragged away from me. Someone threw him across the room. He slammed into the wall and fell with a thud.

My eyes went wide.

Was I dreaming?

Because Blake stood in front of me, chest heaving, all hulked out with his veins popping and right hand wrapped in gauze, his green eyes burning with rage.

“I’ll deal with you in a moment, troublemaker,” he promised me, then turned and stalked over to Sam groaning on the floor.

At least he was alive.

Pulling up the straps of my dress to cover myself, I rushed forward to protect him.

“Blake, what the hell are you doing?” I screamed, trying to block him.

He didn’t seem to care. Like I weighed no more than a feather, he lifted me with his unbandaged hand and deposited me behind him before he bent down and placed a shoe on Sam’s neck.

“You touch her?” he growled.

Sam gasped.

“Tell me.” Blake removed his foot. “Did. You. Touch. Her?”

“Blake, stop.” I tried to drag him away by his arm, but I was no match for his strength—or anger.

“Yes, but I didn’t know she was with someone.”

“She’s a kid.”

“No, I’m not,” I said indignantly, forgetting the situation we were in for a moment. “I’m eighteen, you asshole.”

“What, you her dad or something?” Sam spat, face mottled.

Blake replaced his foot on his neck. “Nowhere near it. But she’smine, and I’m this close to killing you.”

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

The word echoed in my head like a gunshot pinging around a fun house.