I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. “Don’t think I will.”
“I wasn’t asking,” he ground through gritted teeth.
“And I still don’t care.”
His bear-paw of a hand wound into a tight fist again, jerking the bedpost once more for good measure. Eventually, he’d break it. That wasn’t in question. For now though, that bed shook its head and denied Agent Reyes what he wanted, and he growled in response, cutting his eyes back across to me.
“Give me the keys, Avery.”
“I don’t have the keys, Asshole.”
Reyes' left eyebrow twitched, and the backs of his jawline tensed. “You were spanked a lot as a child, weren’t you?”
I let go of a light scoff. “The tight-ass FBI agent is a fan of corporal punishment. Color me fucking shocked.”
My load of sarcasm splashed red across Reyes' entire face, the rage no longer sanctioned to his stare. Agent Reyes screwed his neck in every direction in the hotel room, eyes searching. Then, he froze as something dawned across his face. With his free hand, he reached down into his back pocket and procured the flash of keys he’d left there hours ago.
Idiot.
With a grunt, he unlocked his arm from the bedpost, and I sighed out a weighted breath. If I wanted to escape again, I’d just wasted whatever chance I had while he was still chained up by mouthing off and wasting precious seconds.
My chances were shot tonight.
Demitri: One. Scarlett: Zero.
The acceptance sunk my half a heart low and buried it deep beneath the blanket it slept under every time it was forced to gather enough energy to live another day. It was beat and exhausted, and so was I.
A blur flashed up from the bed, lifting my heavy eyes off of the floor. Punishing eyes and the man they were attached to were coming at me, fast and stalking. His incoming presence was predatory, lightning quick and bred to kill, and in less time it took to think it over, I decided I wanted it.
I was his prey with a death wish, showing him my neck as he closed in.
Claws wrapped around my exposed neck with a disappointing pressure as I held the eyes of my assailant. Agent Reyes pinned me between himself and the door, his body bracing every single inch of mine. Power rolled off of him in waves that drowned my resistance as I allowed my head to hit back against the door, showing him every vulnerable place he could attack.
Hit me. Choke me. Abuse me. I didn’t fucking care. Just do something to make the fire stop.
Agent Reyes' face hovered over mine, eyes devouring me.“Pull a stunt like that again and your freedom for the next three days is gone.”
His breath still tasted of whiskey, sweet and lacking any reservation. His taste was danger if danger had a flavor, bubbling across my tongue and seducing my intentions.
“What can I say? I’m an opportunist.”
His eyebrows dove together, analyzing me like I was anything that could be understood. Like I was simple. Normal. Not fucked in the head.
“If opportunistic also means annoying as fuck, then we can agree.”
“Aw, don’t get mad just because I’m winning this game, Reyes,” I breathed, keeping watch of his stare as it sat against my lips.
“Do you really feel like you’re winning right now?” He pressed his thumb against my throat, squeezing my air supply just barely. I sucked back a slight gasp, thrill swirling through my lungs and rising up my lips.
“Do you?” I countered, arching a brow.
“You are a fucking nightmare,” he spoke explicitly.
“Or I’m the sweetest dream you’ve ever had.”
Reyes lowered his chin so the cut of his face was sharper, more intimidating. “And how’s it you came to that delusion?”
My attention dropped down to his hand that rested against my collarbone. It felt heavy, loaded down with unrealized potential. I laid my own hand over his, shifting his hold around my throat higher. His thumb bumped right under my jawline and his other four fingers primed, ready to crush down on my windpipe if I was so lucky.