Page 42 of Merciless Heir
Letting go of her arm, I hook mine around her, drawing her hard and flush against me and she makes a small sound that’s primal, full of need, and grabs my cock. Desire burns fast and I’m hard. I want her. More than anything.
“You have a way of sliding about things, Sadie. Like the fact your name was with my mother. Like the fact you’re doing this.” I whisper the fingers of my free hand against her cheek. She’s like heated silk.
Her hand comes up, and curls in against the lapel of my jacket. But she’s not pushing, she’s holding and we’re pressed together, a throbbing beat of need. I want her. The understanding—it’s beyond thought—comes again, and I want her so fucking much it’s a physical ache inside.
“And you have a way of pissing me off.” She whispers the words, a world of desire caught in them. “You don’t leave me be.”
“No,” I say, that same desire thick and rich in my own voice, “that’s you.”
“I don’t…” She trails off, rising on her toes, her mouth a brush of air against mine and the heat inside flares, making my guts tighten, my cock harder.
She looks at me, a mere inch from kissing, and she’s a fuck you, she’s a dare. She’s vulnerable and hard. She’s push and pull and I understand everything in that gaze because it pulses inside me, too.
Right or wrong, good idea or bad, I’m going to taste her again. I lower my mouth, her heat coursing through me, but suddenly she moves, turning her head and pushing and I stumble back.
I’m both grateful and resentful at her cowardly, smart move.
“I don’t think that’s something we should do.”
“No,” I say. “I agree.”
“I don’t like you,” she says.
“Preaching to my fucking choir.” I look her up and down and she’s breathing hard. So am I. “But we’re working together. Like has nothing to do with it. Or want. Because we have that, too. And Sadie? When it comes to work? We do everything together. And you tell me everything. Got it?”
“Like it’s made of glass.” Sadie’s mouth curls upwards. “You don’t trust me.”
“I don’t trust anyone.”
And I leave.
Outside in the cold air with the humid touch that says rain, I shove my hands in my pockets and head over to the East Village, my steps biting the ground as I cross in front of traffic and plow through people.
I ignore the shouts and horns.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I reach the bar where I’m meeting my brothers and their partners. I pull it out and look.
Mother. I read it and shove it away.
It’s easy to find them at the corner of the down-to-earth bar, a far cry from the usual haunt of Ryder. But he looks happy, smiling and laughing at something Elliot says. She’s good for him, and…yeah. I get a drink from the bar and go to them, slumping down in a seat.
“What’s got you in knots?”
I glare at Magnus. “This bullshit non-quest.”
“You don’t give a fuck about that.”
“I do when it comes down to losing everything in regards to the flagship company.”
“Yeah, well…” He looks like he wants to say something, but looks over at Zoey and rubs the back of his neck and offers me a sheepish grin. “Maybe I’m not the right person to ask.”
“Why do you look like life is hard?” Ryder asks.
Hudson nods. “Agreed.”
“You lot, leave your brother alone.” This is Scarlett.
Elliot laughs. “They won’t.”