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“Oh…” She runs her finger over my jaw. “I was counting on it.”

Fuck. My lips collide with hers without even thinking, my hands at the back of her thighs as she wraps her legs around my waist.

She didn’t fight me.

She wouldn’t. She should have.

I grind myself against her, needing to be closer. “Bryant,” she whispers over my lips.

I pull back, searching her eyes. “What?”

She hits me in the chest with the back of her hand, her expression morphing into obvious disgust. “You moved on.”

I groan, annoyed that she wanted to bring Stacey up right now. She starts wriggling in my grip, attempting to get out of my hands.

“Let me go!” she cries, and I see them, the tears that prick the corner of her eyes.

“Hey!” I try for the gentle route, circling my thumb over her cheek.

She doesn’t listen, and if anything, her fighting becomes more forceful.

“Isa!” I yell, my hand now at her throat. Squeezing, I flex my fingers around her frail neck as her fighting is instantly subdued. I bare my teeth at my victory as her eyes crash into mine like angry clouds of warfare, threatening to bring a storm.

So close. She was so close.

I lean in closer, running the tip of my nose over hers while staring her down. “I didn’t fucking move on. It was always going to be you, but what the fuck was I supposed to do, baby? Stay alone forever? Fuck the endless options of women just to keep my dick wet?”

She holds her stare; her shoulders square and her jaw set, but her stubbornness loses when tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. “Yes, Bryant. One hundred times fucking yes!”

“Isa…” I watch as her focus begins to shift. I’m losing her and I know it. “Baby, look at me.”

She wouldn’t, so I flex my fingers around her chin and forced her eyes to mine. “I fucking love you. There was never going to be anyone else. I had to do this for a goddamn reason, now are you ready to talk, or do you want me to fuck some sense into you first? Maybe throw you around a bit until you bleed?”

I feel her defeat roll off her body as her head falls to my shoulder.

“I missed you.”

She looks back up at me with her perfect doe eyes.

I run my thumb over her bottom lip. “Is that a yes to wanting to be thrown around?”

“We need to talk. You’re right.” I step forward and let her fall down to the ground, taking her hand in mine before leading her to my office. I don’t know how this is going to go, and to be honest, I haven’t thought much about the execution.

Once we’re inside, I shut the door, squeezing my fist against the wood before I brave myself to turn around and face her. Just how much…

I turn around to find her on my chair with her high-heeled shoes on my desk and a cigar clenched between her teeth. “Well, let’s talk.”

Jesus fucking Christ. I married Tony Montana.

He may be a monster, but that monster is my pet.

-Isa

Bryant’s eyes slanted in challenge when he notices where I’m seated. I did it on purpose. This is Bryant and Isa. Completely challenging. I think we will both be this way until the day we die and the way we die will probably be at each other's hands.

Bryant slides in behind the back of the desk, picks me up from under my arms and slips into the chair while planting me back on his lap. “Your father told me you were schizophrenic. That I couldn’t have a future with you because you were the worst case that they had seen. I believed him when I came to visit you because you were Brooke. A completely different person. The doctors in the psych ward confirmed it all, and fuck, Isa. I didn’t know what to think. You didn’t recognize me when I came in to see you and then you eventually stopped wanting to see me. You hated me. It became unbearable to watch. Eventually, your father cut off all visitations to you and put you into isolation. He said that you were self-harming and that he needed to keep you monitored. I believed him. When I have a crazy wife screaming at me like a demon on crack and a president as a father-in-law whose word I trusted, it was easy to pick who to believe.”

I want to interrupt him and question things, but I don’t. He needs to talk and I need to listen.

“I need you to not worry about Stacey right now but trust that I know what I’m doing.” He turns me around to face him so I’m straddling his waist. “Know that you come first. Everything is for you.”

He licked his lip and I had to force myself not to lean in and bite down on it. “Max is also planning something, and I’m almost certain that I know every single fucking move.”


Tags: Amo Jones Crowned Erotic