His hand tightens in my hair, and I moan into his mouth. He holds me pinned to the wall, taking my breath away. His knee forces its way between my legs, and I whimper.
My hands fall to his jeans. My fingers moving as quick as they can to get them undone. Just as I reach into his boxers, he pulls away from me. Grabbing my arm, he yanks me from the wall and turns me to face the scarecrow. He yanks my yoga pants down my thighs along with my black lace thong. Then his hands push on my back to bend me over.
My hands slap the hay. I’m panting, bent over staring at the scarecrow in a plaid shirt and blood-soaked overalls. His head is covered with burlap that has black barbwire around his neck and black stitching for his eyes. Along with his wide and evil-looking smile. If I hadn’t seen Cole stab it, I would swear it just moved. If I didn’t know it was made from straw, I would swear I could feel it breathing on my face. It just makes this even more exciting.
My heart pounds, but my pussy tightens. We’re really gonna do this. Right here and now. “I’m mad at you,” I manage to get out even though my knees shake with anticipation.
He just chuckles from behind me. “When has that ever stopped me, sweetheart?”
His hand flattens on my back, keeping me in place, and I know he’s ready. No foreplay. No wasting time. He’s about to fuck me in this haunted tunnel in a room that smells of fake blood and hay. And I’m totally fucking wet for him.
My Cole.
My devil.
My fucking damnation.
I’ve proved to him time and time again that I will be whatever he needs.
My head falls forward, and I suck in a long breath when he thrusts a finger into my pussy.
“You do like the fight,” he muses when he finds me wet.
“Fuck you …”
Gripping my hair, he yanks my head back, making me cry out and cutting off my words.
He leans forward, placing his lips next to my ears. “Don’t mind if I do.” He enters me in one hard motion from behind.
My eyes close, my fingers dig into the hay, and my breath is momentarily taken away. He doesn’t even let me recover before he begins to fuck me. The sounds of my whimpers, and our bodies slapping fill the small room. “Cole …”
He lets go of my hair, wraps his hand around my throat, and squeezes, taking my air away.
CHAPTER TWO
AUSTIN
HE’S BUTTONING HIS jeans as I pull my yoga pants and thong up my shaking thighs.
“Wanna play?” he asks me.
I arch a brow. “Play?” I know exactly what he means. No one touches what belongs to Cole Reynolds and gets away with it. I push my hip out. “I didn’t bring my hammer.” He and the rest of the Great White Sharks have this running joke about me and my hammer that I’ve used to smash bones with.
He throws his head back and lets out a laugh. His chest shakes, and even though I’m still pissed at him, I smile and take in this rare moment. Cole never laughs. Not like this. So carefree. The man I fell in love with is cold and detached from all emotions but anger. A murderer. A man who wanted to hurt me. I never wanted to change him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy these rare moments when he shows me a different side. The man I think he would be if his life hadn’t been so fucked up. But then again, I don’t think I’d love any other version of Cole than the one I have now.
When he looks down at me, his smile lights up his chiseled face. His eyes as blue as the sky on a sunny day. They’re usually clouded over with anger. He harbors so much hatred for himself—for the world—and I hate that he doesn’t see himself the way I do. He carries the world on his shoulders, and although he’s the strongest man I know, it still affects him.
“That’s my sweetheart.” He pushes my hair that has fallen from my bun out of my face. “Gorgeous and evil.” Then as fast as it appeared, it’s gone. He tilts his head to the side, his brows furrowing. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I wrap my arms around his neck.
He leans down, kissing my forehead softly. “I mean it, Austin. They’ll pay for touching you.”
Pulling back, I look up at him. I wouldn’t expect anything less from Cole. As his eyes search my face, I watch the tic in his jaw as his perfect features turn as hard as stone. I see the Cole Reynolds I know. The bloodlust he craves. He needs to take, and I’m always willing to give it to him.
COLE
I’m trying not to think about that man touching my wife. I know it wasn’t her fault, and I’m not mad at her in the least. But I needed her. Ever since I met Austin Lowes, I’ve needed to claim her and mark her as mine. As awful and animalistic as that sounds, it’s what she does to me. And I came here to do just that.
We make our way out of the small room and back to the main tunnel, heading toward the exit. I can tell she’s pissed at me all over again. The moment we shared in the room is long gone.
“Why were you mad at me in the first place?” I ask.
She’s been pissy toward me for the past couple of days, but I’ve been busy with classes and the swim team, so I let it go and figured she’d get over whatever the hell it is. Deke and I had just finished practice and were on our way home from the University of Texas when he saw Austin had tagged Demi in a Facebook pic with Brynn. At first, I was trying to wrap my head around why in the hell she reactivated her page, and then I was pissed when she ignored my phone calls. She had turned her phone off. Austin has a way of shutting you out completely when she’s mad. And although I understand it, I’m not gonna let her get away with it. Not this time.
“You know why,” she answers flatly.
I grip her upper arm and yank her to a stop in the middle of a scene in the pathetic tunnel. “I’m not gonna ask you twice, Austin.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Fine. I’m pissed you put a tracker on my SUV.”
I almost laugh. “You can’t be serious …”
“That is a violation of my privacy.”
I run a hand through my hair. “It saved your life.”
Her mouth falls open. “That’s how you justify it?”
“I don’t need justification for my actions.”
“You are such a fucking dick!” she shouts, fisting her hands.
A man dressed as a vampire jumps out from an open coffin that leans up against a wall, and we both ignore him. “And you are being unreasonable.”
She gasps. “Unreasonable? You sit and watch me day after day, knowing exactly where I am at all times.” Her eyes widen. “That’s how you got here so fast? You checked my GPS?” she demands.
I don’t answer. Mainly because she’s wrong.
“Stupid. Of course. I’m so fucking stupid,” she whispers to herself.
I arch a brow, ignoring that. “Are you going places you shouldn’t be?” I ask. She’s wrong about that as well. I don’t just sit around and check on where she’s at.
“Are you accusing me of cheating on you?” she demands.
I will kill a man without thought. But I say, “That’s where your head went, sweetheart?”
“Maybe for all those late-night practices, you aren’t really in a pool?” she challenges.
I step into her, my eyes boring down on hers, but she doesn’t back down. She’s not that type of woman. My six-one to her five feet four doesn’t scare her in the least. “Don’t accuse me of being unfaithful,” I say through gritted teeth. This woman knows exactly what to say to piss me off.