Page 132 of Made for Cyn
But whose? Jagger’s? Or someone else’s? And when will Iris just let it all be?
Jagger raises a brow, his evil eyes dancing over me quickly before Iris appears beside him, and he smirks, pulling her into his side. Thank fuck he turns away. And so do I, meeting the stare of the guy from the Point who I almost fucked. That is, until Cyn intervened, although I was about to back away anyway.
Not this time, I think when he looks me up and down with a dark stare and raises a brow. Smiling, I step through the crowd until I’m standing before him, and he says quietly, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Searching his gaze, I falter at the knowledge behind his eyes before looking away, directly into Cyn’s burning gaze. His hate is so scorching, the hair on my neck rises in warning. All the while, Shelby hangs off his arm, but most disturbingly, she’s caressing his dick through his jeans in front of everyone.
My eyes drop to her hand, a shiver running through me because despite my disgust, I’m heated through, and when I raise my gaze, he smirks at me, a challenge he’s foolish enough to toss my way.
I curl my lips into a wicked smile and raise my own brow, but I’m sure my eyes are fucking dead. His mouth forms a thin line and his eyes drop to my hand on Tim’s arm before I turn back to him and say firmly, “Yes.”
With a curt nod, he grabs my hand and pulls me through the crowd. I resist the urge to look back, knowing it will only send a message to Cyn. Besides, it doesn’t matter now. Who we were was just a mirage and now I’m the girl willing to fuck a man for the sake of revenge.
In a daze, I follow him down a hall, through a set of doors, and into the night. Immediately, he pulls me around and against the wall, nuzzling into my neck, his heavy breaths sticky on my skin.
Tilting my head to the side, I close my eyes and shamelessly pretend he’s Cyn as tingles race down my spine.
But it all falls flat when Tim murmurs, “You have beautiful skin.”
Whimpering in frustration, which he takes as desire, he drops to his knees and clutches my core through my jeans. My eyes fly open at the clumsy groping because I feel nothing but icky as he massages me roughly. And the longer I stand here and pretend, the more my hope fades. Cyn isn’t coming through this door to stop me, and with a bitter laugh, I lean against the wall and close my eyes.
Standing, Tim breathes against my neck, “C’mon, turn around. I need to fuck you.”
Nodding dumbly, I turn and face the wall, with my hands braced against the cool metal as Tim tugs at my jeans, which are admittedly really fucking tight.
He’s cursing under his breath when the door opens, and my heart thumps in my chest before clenching with dread because Jagger emerges—alone.
Tim stands and drops his gaze to the ground, and Jagger tips his head in warning. With my jaw flapping open, I watch as Tim casts me an apologetic look and a grimace before disappearing inside.
Nice, leave me with the apex predator. Dick.
Warily, I watch Jagger approach, stepping back against the wall when he leans his palm beside me and looks me over curiously. “What is it about you, hmm?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I whisper, glancing toward the door.
I don’t know this guy well, but I’m not impressed so far. A repulsive feeling emanates from him in waves.
“I guess it doesn’t matter. You’ll do fine.” He grabs my hair in his hand, and I grunt, pulling away.
“Hey.” My efforts earn me a tap on the face and he tugs harder on my hair.
“What do you want? Is this about my uncle?” I rasp, gritting my teeth against the pain.
“Your uncle? No,” he says, chuckling softly.
“You didn’t do it?”
“Do what?” He chuffs, pulling me around and pushing me toward the door.
“What do you want?” I ask tremulously, glancing up when Cyn steps through the exit.
For a moment so brief it’s gone before I have time to enjoy it, I feel a bloom of hope, but it fades to despair when Cyn looks past me to Jagger with a bored expression.
“Leave the whore. We have things to discuss,” Cyn says.
Flinching, I look away. I have no idea what’s going on, but I know it’s not fucking good. If Jagger didn’t take care of John, then who did? And what does Jagger want with me?
“Not now,” Jagger sneers, and Cyn’s eyes flash.