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Tangled (Playing With Fire)

Page 27

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“You left me high and dry, Scarlett. You basically challenged me to find someone else. I really didn’t think you cared. You’re carrying on like this makes me think you do.”

“Don’t you dare blame me for this. And I am not carrying on. I’m…” What was she doing? Acting like a jealous shrew. Making a big deal over something she had no control of. He wasn’t her boyfriend. She wasn’t his girlfriend. He could fuck whomever he wanted.

“I don’t think you know what you’re doing,” he said, so softly she had to strain to hear him.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But I’d like to find out. Who are you, Scarlett? I mean really? And where do you come from? Did you go to college? Do you have any brothers and sisters? What’s your favorite color?”

“What does it matter to you? We’re not in a relationship.”

“What if I told you that it does matter to me? That I’m interested because I want to get to know you better.”

“Why? What about Drake?” Why was he saying these things to her? Giving her hope? She’d been hopeless for so long she’d gotten quite used to the feeling.

“Forget Drake. You want me to be honest with you?” His voice had gone rougher, as if he might be angry, and she heard the harsh pants of his breath.

He definitely sounded angry, and God help her but she found it the slightest bit arousing.

“Yes,” she breathed, clutching the cell phone tight. Afraid of what he might say.

“I fucked Drake, all right? That night at Tom’s, we were together after you left and I fucked him. Sometimes I like to get off with another man. It’s one of my quirks. But I thought of you the entire t

ime. Just like you said I would. It was your face I saw, your body I was coming inside of.”

His words should’ve disgusted her, but her panties went wet at the vision of him naked and entangled with Drake. Thinking of her while that big cock of his was buried deep inside Drake’s ass.

She was sick. Twisted. But she couldn’t help it.

“It meant nothing with Drake. Absolutely nothing. He’s called me a few times since then, but I’ve brushed him off. I’m not interested in him. I’m interested in you.” Trevor paused, his breathing sounding even louder in her ear. “I want you, Scarlett. So fucking bad I can hardly stand it.”

“You just had me last night,” she whispered, his words made her nipples harden, rubbing painfully against the confines of her bra.

“And I want you now. My cock is hard just talking to you. I’ve jacked off three times today thinking of you.”

“You have not.” Oh, the thought thrilled her, the idea of him stroking himself with visions of her dancing inside his head.

“I have,” he growled. “Come over and I’ll come all over those pretty tits of yours.”

“Trevor Braxton, you are so crude.” She secretly loved it.

“You love it,” he echoed, as if he could read her mind. “Come over, Scarlett. Let me show you how much I want you.”

“God, I shouldn’t.” She flicked on the headlights, watched the beams of light shine on the brick wall of the building she’d parked in front of.

“Oh yes, you should. I’ll show you a good time.” His voice took on a teasing, leering quality, and she laughed.

“You’re so cocky.”

“There you go saying that word again. I love it when you say that.” He paused. “Though I would prefer it if you dropped the ‘y’.”

“Oh you mean like this?” she asked innocently. “You like it when I say the word cock?”

“Hell, yeah.”

“Do you like it when I talk about how much I’d like to suck that big, juicy cock of yours?”

“Fuck yeah, sweetheart.”



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