Twist the Knife - Page 174

“Asshole,” he grumbles.

“Thanks, dick,” I grumble at Rav.

“That’s what you get for choking me, motherfucker.”

I take a quick step toward him and enjoy his flinch.

As the laughter and jabs die down, I catch Rooster watching me again. His eyes narrow like he’s puzzling something out. Not a fan of that. “You got something to say?” I snap, more harshly than I intended.

“Nope. Just never thought I’d see this day. I want to soak it all in.” He claps my shoulder. “My boy’s growing up.”

Instead of laughing that off with one of my usual snarky comebacks, I stop and look Rooster dead in the eyes. “Isn’t that what Shelby’s reading said? The old me has to die to feel truly alive?”

He frowns, as if he can’t believe I brought that up. “Cards or no cards, you’re headed somewhere good, brother.”

His words—and apparent faith in me—plunge deeper than a knife.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Jigsaw

Once again, I’m sneaking into Margot’s place under the cover of darkness.

She meets me at the back door, looking absolutely adorable in a black long-sleeved top with white skeletons printed all over it, matching pajama pants, and bright red socks on her feet.

Not caring who might be around tonight, I immediately scoop her into my arms and crush my lips against hers, taking her mouth in a greedy kiss.

“Missed you,” I say in between soft licks and tastes of her tongue.

Her fingertips feather against the back of my neck, sending an electric current straight to my dick.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” she whispers.

Her grave tone presses Pause on all the filthy things I want to do to her. “Bad day?”

“Not really. I just missed you.”

How do those simple words have the power to sneak into my chest and curl around my heart? I lift her higher in my arms. “Wrap your legs around me.”

“Are you going to carry me all the way upstairs?” she asks, while doing exactly what I want.

“I can’t let go of you, so yeah.”

She tightens her arms around my neck and rests her head on my shoulder, holding on while I slowly navigate the three flights.

At her door, I stop, wanting to press her against it and grind myself into her center but she left it ajar. I kick it closed behind us.

“How do you want me?” I ask.

She tugs the collar of my shirt aside and kisses my neck. “In your lap, like the other day. With you holding me while I rock myself up and down your long, thick?—”

I slam us against the wall, using my arms as a buffer so I don’t hurt her back and seal my mouth over hers, absorbing her dirty words into my lungs. She tastes like heaven and I’m vibrating with the need to be inside her but also want to take things slow.

“Or, we can do this,” she whispers in between kisses, “and do that next.”

“Greedy little girl tonight, huh?”

I hate setting her down, but I need a minute. “Get in the bedroom and show me how much you want it.”