The asshole just got played.
“Fine, okay. I won’t tell anyone!” he exclaims, wriggling madly.
Only when she sighs in victory do I lessen the pressure on his back. But when he rears up and spits in her face, I decide to clear up any confusion on his behalf. Without hesitating, I yank him up and punch him in the ribs, the stomach, and lastly, break his nose for a second time.
When he howls in pain, attempting to punch me, I deliver an upper cut that knocks him out cold.
Both Tiger and I watch emotionless as he twitches, blood spilling from his nose. Sadly, he is still breathing.
The adrenaline of the fight thrums through me, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to grab Tiger and throw her up against the wall. Her chest rises and falls quickly, betraying her excitement. With a bleeding, unconscious body between us, I’ve never felt more connected with another human than I do right now.
She peers up at me from under her lashes, the pink to her cheeks hinting at her arousal over what we just did. I never mistook her for anything but fierce, but holy shit, tonight…her need for vengeance sang to mine.
Tiger is savage. And her darkness dances with mine.
“What happens now?” she asks softly, but nothing is tender about her appearance. She is sparking to life in front of me.
I want so badly to touch her, but I don’t trust myself. I will fucking rip her in two. So I inhale, subduing the devil for now. “You go out there and don’t allow anyone to make you feel worthless ever again. Underneath this fancy façade,”—I toe Derrick’s limp body—“is a weak, pathetic coward. But you, you’re real. Never forget that. Never lose sight of who you are. And what you want.”
She licks her lips nervously, rousing this hunger.
“Someone can only make you feel like shit if you let them.” She appears to hold her breath when I deliver a final yet powerful word. “Don’t.”
The static crackling between us constricts every part of me. But eventually, with a nod, she turns. I step forward, giving in to the demons, and catch her unaware as I press my chest to her back.
Her hitched breath and trembling body betray her. And it’s fucking beautiful.
Extending my hand, I whisper into her ear, “Leave the underwear.”
She does as I say before she rushes out the door, leaving me with this foreign sensation of…feeling.
Lily
I know I promised myself I would never let him get the better of me again, but I can’t stay away.
I’ve tried. I’ve really tried. But after last night, it seems this just may be a losing battle. I know I shouldn’t want him, but that doesn’t stop me from seeking him out.
Watching Bull reprimand Derrick that way triggered something inside me. Mostly, I’ve kept my temper under control, but when I let loose last night, instead of holding back as I have in the past, it was the most liberating feeling I’ve had in years.
Society’s rules scold us from acting on our deepest, darkest emotions. But those rules don’t apply to Bull. He calls it how he sees it, and I admire his no bullshit attitude. I don’t know anything about him, but I can’t help but feel that this world we live in is something foreign to him.
He’s so naïve at times—as though he’s an alien, assessing our planet for the first time.
When Bae told me she walked in on him and Tawny kissing, I was furious. I didn’t understand why he would do that. Tawny doesn’t seem to be his “type” because someone like Bull doesn’t have a “type.” His tattoo of Lone Wolf describes him perfectly, which had me guessing that he was using Tawny.
I don’t know what for, but I refuse to believe it’s anything more than a strategic move. He just appeared out of nowhere. I want to know his backstory, which is why I’m standing on his doorstep, holding two coffee cups.
I dropped Jordy off at school before coming here. I have no game plan. I just know that I’m in the right place. I’m about to knock but am caught unawares when the door opens, and I’m confronted with a sight that should be illegal so early in the morning.
Bull stands before me shirtless.
Thankfully, he’s in black sweats, even though they sit low on his tapered waist. The silver chain he wears hangs low between his muscled pecs. I guess he doesn’t take it off. When I roll my tongue back into my mouth, I offer him a cup of coffee before pushing past him.
His unmade bed is thankfully empty of Tawny or anyone else, bar a black fluffy kitten curled in a contented ball on his pillow. Sitting at the foot of the bed, I sip my coffee, watching him close the door. Before he has a chance to speak, I beat him to the punch.
“What did you do with Derrick?” The thought of him going back to Melanie Arnolds battered and bruised has me smiling, but I hide my delight behind the rim of the coffee cup.
“I took care of it,” he finally replies, looking at me closely. His hair has grown a little longer, and I wonder what he’d look like with it long.
Rolling my eyes, I question, “What does that mean?”
His sigh of frustration amuses me beyond words. It’s good to know I can get under his skin because he sure as hell is under mine.
As I’m sipping my coffee, he asks, “What’s your number?” which results in third-degree burns on my tongue.
“What do you want my number for?” I lisp, due to the scalding coffee that I inhaled, thanks to his question.
Folding his arms across his broad, tattooed chest, he arches a dark brow. “Do you always question everything?”
“Yes,” I reply, deadpanning him. “Especially when some strange man asks for my number.”
Bull nods, tonguing his cheek in thought. “Good. You should,” he finally says. “You asked what I did with Derrick. So I was going to show you.”
I gulp.
“Where’s your phone?”
He gestures with his head to the nightstand.
Leaning across the twisted sheets and blankets, I ignore how good they smell as I reach for the cell. I’m about to pass it to him, but stop when he says, “Put in your number. There’s no passcode.”
I blink once, stunned by his trust in me. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who trusts easily, so this is a big deal. But not wanting to make a fuss, I go to his contacts. I’m expecting to see a list of numbers belonging to family and friends, but I am surprised and also saddened to see that I am, in fact, his first contact.
With fumbling fingers, I put in my name, number, and address before tossing him the cell. He catches it in one hand with his catlike reflexes. He scrolls through his phone, giving nothing away, before my cell pings, alerting me to a text message.
Placing the coffee between my legs, I hunt through my bag, and when I see what’s on my screen, I gasp, before bursting into laughter. The lace underwear, which stare at me from my cell now sit beside me, thanks to Bull flinging them my way.
“I think lace suits him,” Bull teases, referring to the picture he sent me of Derrick wearing nothing but the underwear. He’s on all fours with one of the girls behind him, mid flogging. For good measure, he’s wearing a ball gag.
“There’s some collateral in case he gets lippy. He won’t, though. I know guys like him. They care more about themselves and their precious reputations. You’ll be fine.”