“Where the fuck have you been?” I shout, folding my arms and sticking my hip out as anger consumes me.
Zeke doesn’t look up. He just unties his second boot before slipping it off.
“Did you hear me? Or did you lose your hearing the twenty-three days you’ve been gone?”
His head snaps up—pain. His sight lasers through my heart. He’s hurting so fucking much.
Well, too bad. He’s not the only one in pain.
“You don’t get to just leave me for a month on my own trapped in this house!” I shout, walking toward him.
He stands up. “Watch your mouth, Siren. You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
“I have no idea what you’ve been through? Are you fucking serious?”
I push him square on the chest. He doesn’t move, but it still feels good. Instead, he steps around me.
“I know exactly what you’ve been through because it’s been the only thing I’ve been thinking of this entire time,” I scream.
I follow him, and when he turns down the hallway, I push again. This time, he’s off-balance enough to take a small step back.
“You’ve been tying women up.”
Push.
“Threatening their lives with your gun.”
Push.
“Locking them up in cages.”
Push.
“Transporting them to far off countries in the back of vans and cargo holds.”
Push.
“Making calls with the most disgusting men in the world.”
Push.
“Negotiating costs and pushing prices higher and higher so you and Julian can make more money.”
Push.
Zeke’s body is pressed flush against the wall now. I’m unhinged—my body relentlessly pushing his against the wall over and over.
I can’t remember being this pissed with a man before. But why? He did his job. He’s just like Julian and every other man on this island.
Because I was stupid enough to think that Zeke might be better. That he had a speck of good in a sea of bad, but he’s just like all the rest.
“Do it,” I say, shoving again.
He frowns, not understanding what I’m saying.
“Rape me! Hurt me! Be a fucking man!” I push again. “You’ve already hurt hundreds of women. I’m not any different than any of them. Stop pretending you are the good guy. You’re not a good man. You’re evil. The devil!”
Zeke doesn’t move, even when I push him again.
My body is boiling. I’m red, exhausted, and angry, but I can’t stop. I need this to end. One way or the other, I need this over.
“Stop pretending you need the excuse of the stupid game to sin!” I cry.
This time when I launch myself, my body falls into his. I’m too exhausted to hold myself up anymore. Too angry.
Zeke holds me gently in his arms. My head rests on his chest, and his arms hold me up at the elbows.
We are both still for a moment. I pant heavily against his chest as I watch his rise and fall. My ear is pressed against his pec, and I can hear it—the thumping of his heart. It’s accelerated. Beating as fast as mine.
I look up and see the pain on Zeke’s face, mixed with desire. He’s desperate for me, yet he still exercises restraint.
I’m tired of him being a gentleman to me when he’s a monster to everyone else. I need to see the real him. It’s the only way.
I lift my head from his chest.
He freezes as if he can read my mind and already knows where this is going. If he just stays still, he’ll be able to resist.
But he’s a man, a monster—he won’t be able to stop himself.
I rise on my tiptoes, and then, I kiss him.
I melt as soon as our lips touch. His are so soft, so welcoming, so mine.
Fuck, where did that thought come from?
He tilts his head, letting me in more as his deep voice strains against his vocal cords as I slide my tongue into his mouth.
Yes, stop resisting—show me who you really are.
I grab his neck, holding his lips to me as we kiss harder, our mouths begging for more. For more than a kiss can give.
It’s an endless kiss—wet, and hot, and delicious. I love everything about it. How he moves his tongue, how his lips part, even the scruffy hair on his face against my cheeks.
It’s what I’ve been searching for forever. But it’s not real. This isn’t the real Zeke.
At the same time, we push each other away, until we are arms-length apart.
Our hands still hold each other. His hands claw my shoulders, and mine graze the surface of his biceps. We pant hard and fast. Neither of us is getting enough oxygen right now to think clearly.
“Why did you stop? You know you don’t want to,” I breathe out.
His eyes turn in his head. He’s fighting his self-control—hard. And his dick is winning.
Yes, just a little more, and I’ll have you. You’ll show me your true monster, and then I can use it against you. But what will it cost me?
“Why did you stop?” He throws my words back at me.
“This isn’t about me. This is about you. About the monster you’ve become.”
He shakes his head with a sexy grin as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Like that’s all it takes for him to get rid of me—ha.
“Oh, beautiful. You really think I’m the only one with a monster inside?” His eyes meet mine. “If I’m a beast, you’re a tiger. Just as vicious, just as willing to devour innocent prey.”
I narrow my eyes.
And we both attack again.
He goes for my hair; I go for his jacket.
He pulls my hair back, tilting my head as he lays another kiss on my neck as I push his jacket off.
He grabs my neck, pulling me tightly to him, not willing to let me go. I grab the V of his shirt and rip it all the way down the middle until I see his rippling muscles and tattooed body.
His hand tangles into my hair, fisting it back, giving himself better access to my lips. I want more, and so does he.
I grab his scrunchie and rip it out of his hair as he pushes my shirt up as he feels my smooth stomach.
Progress.
But then, he snaps back.
I reach for him, but I feel nothing but air.
He’s glued to the wall, his hands stuck to his side.
I laugh. “You afraid?”
“You have no idea,” he pants.
I touch my swollen lip with my finger. I want more. And now I’m afraid. Because I’m not supposed to want him back. I’m supposed to be in control. But a few kisses and I want him as badly as he wants me.
“I have an idea.” I grab the hem of my shirt and lift it over my head.
He groans at the sight.
He didn’t realize I wasn’t wearing a bra when his hands were all over my stomach.
His eyes flutter up to the ceiling, as if not looking is going to save him. He already has my body ingrained in his head. There is no escaping.
“Zeke?” I say, my voice dropping to serious levels.
His eyes carefully drop back to me, attempting not to catch a glance of my boobs, of my nipples hardening for his touch.
“Yes?” He answers.
“Kiss me.”
We charge at each other. This time he grabs my ass, and my legs wrap around his body. I feel his erection push between my legs; my nipples rub against his chest as our mouths collide.