“So, sex isn’t off the table anymore?” he asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.
I snorted. “I’m pretty sure sex was literally on the table a couple of hours ago, if you can remember that far back.”
He chuckled, sounding genuinely amused. He had a gorgeous smile when he wasn’t being a psychopath. My heart fluttered, and my stomach did a flip-flop as if he was the popular boy at school and he’d asked me to the dance. I supposed it was sort of the case. He was famous, after all, and apparently after having had a taste of me he wasn’t quite done.
“And you like it rough?”
“Up to a point.”
“Have you ever been fucked in the ass?”
I pointed my gaze out the passenger window so that he couldn’t see the heat that was rushing up my neck, not that he was looking at me.
“Not for a long time. I’ve never liked it.”
“Excellent.”
“What? That I’ve done anal or that I don’t like it?” I made the mistake of looking over at him, and his dark, evil eyes met mine.
“Both.”
I shuddered at the ice in his gaze, feeling cold in the confines of the truck cab.
“It’s good your ass isn’t off limits,” he said, as though I’d responded. My body had, I supposed, but I wasn’t sure what he’d read in my nonverbals.
The thought of him pinning me down and taking my ass almost made me whimper, and my pussy was kind enough to remind me that he’d left us hanging earlier, leaving us wet and wanting.
“I probably shouldn’t have fucked you without Zero there—not the first time, at least.”
“You stopped.”
“I was stopped. There’s a difference. I didn’t stop out of loyalty to Zero, that’s for damned sure.”
“You think he’ll be angry?”
“No, not angry. He’ll just be disappointed I started without him.”
“Then I guess you should thank Evelyn for interrupting you when she did.”
“Yeah. I’ll send her a fucking fruit basket or something.” He lifted his ass off the seat and shoved his hand into his jeans to adjust his cock. From the look of the bulge, it was more than semi-hard.
I probably shouldn’t offer to give him road head, right?
Annoyed with myself for wanting him even though he was an asshat, I rubbed at the cuff marks that still lingered on my wrist. If I didn’t end up with bruises I’d be surprised.
Funny how I’d had plenty of time to stew over how he’d treated me at the signing, and yet I still wanted to finish what he’d started between us.
“Have you always been a jerk, or are you only like this with me?”
He chuckled but didn’t look at me.
“I’m a jerk to pretty much everyone, but I have a special place in my heart for you.”
I turned in my seat so I could regard him. “You know damned well I never planned to steal your work.”
“So you say.”
He turned on the radio, then turned it off again, looking annoyed. “Put on something I like.”
I arched a brow at him and flicked a finger at my dress. “I put on something you liked this morning, and it got me into trouble.” Fully aware that wasn’t what he meant, I went through the CDs in his glove box, not teasing him about how old school CDs were. I doubted he wanted me touching his phone.
I slid in the latest CD by a band we apparently both liked, and Vandal cranked the stereo and relaxed back into the drive. The heavy bass buzzed through my seat, and I groaned under my breath. The last thing I needed was a reminder that my vibrator was in one of the boxes that had gone into his garage. I’d been worried Vandal would search through anything I kept in my room.
Soon, I was well past turned on and well into bitchy and needy again. Rather than soothe my temper, which was usually what heavy metal did for me, the music on the way home had felt driving and sexual. The band’s deep, growling voices and loud drums made me think of being fucked hard, which was what I craved.
Vandal was silent. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but his attention didn’t seem to be wandering far from where I sat, and his gaze shifted to my bare legs more than once.
Abruptly, he turned down the volume, as though the music was giving him the same issue I was having.
“What do you want from me?” he asked, his voice harsh.
Dick? Would it be rude to say that? He had to know already though, right?
“What do you mean?” I asked, raising my brows in feigned innocence.
“What do you want from me?” he repeated, sounding downright angry. He was accelerating, and I wasn’t sure he’d noticed.
“For you to get us back to the cottage in one piece?” Hell, I hadn’t done anything to the man except let him do what he wanted to me. He kept acting like I was in the wrong. “Are you always this hostile to women you’ve sort of had sex with? Without a condom, I might add.”
He shifted in his seat. “I can’t stop thinking about it. The whole time I was signing I was thinking about your tight little pussy and how bad I wanted to make you squeal.”
My face ignited with heat, and I turned away from his intensity to gaze out the window. My panties were completely sodden.
“Should I pull over?”
“We’re almost back at your place.”
“We could stop here.”
“And do what? Wander around in the long grass? Catch Pokémon?”
He didn’t respond.
“Just because I agreed to fuck you once doesn’t mean it’ll necessarily happen again,” I pointed out half seriously. I was under no obligation to sleep with him unless I’d missed a clause in our contract, and I had no interest in fucking a man who went out of his way to be a jerk to me.
Okay, that latter part wasn’t entirely true, but it should have been.
“Maybe what happened at the bookstore was a one-off. You caught me in a weak moment.”
He lifted a brow that suggested I was delusional.
“It’s true.”
“You stalk me, and you’re going to deny wanting me?”
“I wasn’t stalking you, and if I did sleep with you, it would have nothing to do with who you are and everything to do with whether you were worth the trouble.”
“Okay, groupie.”
The look I hit him with was so venomous he should have died on the spot. “I’m not a groupie.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Do I scream whenever you walk into a room?”
“No, but you do look a bit faint.”
“That’s because your big head takes up all the air and doesn’t leave any for the rest of us.”
He chuckled as if I were joking.
A few minutes later he pulled into the empty driveway. No truck? So Zero still wasn’t home. That felt dangerous for some reason, as though Zero might have been an adequate chaperone for us.
As Vandal put the truck in park, he glanced over at me. “No need to look so worried. He’ll be back soon.”
“I’m not worried.” I gazed out at the flowers in the planters, which were all still healthy and gorgeous despite the heat—his grandmother had taught him well. He spent so much time on the yard it must be somehow therapeutic for him.