One Dirty Night - Page 97

Chapter Thirteen

“DID I SAY YOU COULD CRY?” HUNTER demanded, dragging the thick leather of a crop over my bottom lip.

I shook my head, dropping my chin as I squirmed in the cuffs trapping my wrists. “No, Sir.”

“Did I hurt you, little witch?”

“No, Sir.”

“Did he hurt you?”

I flinched.

Hunter ducked before me and tipped my chin up with the crop. “Did Nick hurt you, my darling?”

I nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“I’ll kill him.” Hunter wrung the crop as if it was Nick’s neck. “Your tears are meant to flow because you’re in ecstasy, not heartbreak.”

I cried harder. “I’m the opposite of ecstasy.”

Tugging me onto his lap, his jeans brushed against my nakedness as he pressed a kiss to my temple. “Tell me how to stop your pain.”

“Make him love me.”

He groaned. “No one has that power, little witch. Even you with your magic over us.”

“Then erase him from my mind.”

“I would if I could, but I can’t.” Cupping my cheek, he ran his thumb through my tears. “The only thing you can do is consume his mind in return. I told you before…if you want him, you’re going to have to break him.” He kissed me softly. “Don’t let him break you instead—”

I gasped as I shot upright.

The dream dissipated like wispy smoke.

My head ached from my drinking session, stealing some of my wooziness and dumping me firmly back into reality.

The TV still flickered silently.

I hadn’t even noticed I’d fallen asleep.

Shit, what time is it?

Am I late for work?

I was never late.

The hotel clock glowed a neon pink, revealing the time was two in the morning.

Oh, thank goodness.

No way did I have the strength to return to the lab in my current state.

Falling back against my pillow, I let my mind skip back to the night I’d spent with Hunter. What had we been doing at two a.m.? Which man was inside me then? Was it Hunter or Nicholas? What was Hunter doing right now? Was he inside another woman? Sharing her with another Dom? Worshipping her until she felt like a dirty, desirable queen?

Faint jealousy curled through me. The feeling was nothing as vicious as what I’d felt at the thought of people flirting with Nick at the lab, but it was there. Pulsing in my alcohol-laced blood, itching me to call him.

Call him?