Page 13
What happens in Chapter 13 of "Tempting Venom"? Just a sea of gray asphyxiating the blue with no spark.No life.No story to tell.Itās... Read on to find out!
Just a sea of gray asphyxiating the blue with no spark.
No life.
No story to tell.
Itās destabilizing.
āLeave my players alone, Armstrong. This is my first and final warning.ā
I tilt my head, a small, satisfied curl forming at my mouth as I whisper, āOr what?ā
He pauses, staring at me, and for a heartbeat, something shiftsāflickersābefore he murmurs, āOr youāll regret it.ā
āAre you threatening me with a good time, rat?ā
āCareful, princeling.ā His voice comes out rough-edged, the kind of rasp that could strip skin if I listened too long. āDonāt want to chip your manicure.ā
āAw, thanks for the concern, but donāt worry. I keep them sharp for cutting throats.ā
He laughs, the sound low and throaty, but it carries condescension instead of anything resembling amusement.
āWill you be coming aftermythroat?ā
I donāt like his tone. Thereās something dark and strange there I canāt quite pinpoint.
āIf you get in the way, maybe.ā I lift a shoulder, subtly disengaging from him.
Because fuck this shit, being near him is intense.
Not āIām gonna get beat up to feel painā intense or āIām gonna fuck until I pass outā intense, but something more uncomfortable.
Itās because I donāt like people touching me out of the blue, or at all, really. Thatās why I always tie the girls up during sex. If they donāt like that, weāre not compatible.Get home safe, beautiful.
But hereās the thing thatās slightlyāormajorly,depending on how you look at itādisturbing. I seemed to have momentarily forgotten about that tiny, pesky inconvenience just now.
If anything, I didnāt notice he was touching me for a while.
Fuck me sideways.
āWhat should we do?ā He feigns concern, his voice grating on my last damn nerve. Or maybe itās the way he speaks, so nonchalant and blasĆ© and entirely fucking irritating.
Iām the only one who gets to speak that way.
āI plan to get in the way,ā he says, circling me once, before he stops in front of me again, standing so close, I have to look up.
Okay, being circled is actually a no-noāalmost there with waking up and finding myself in a place I donāt remember sleeping in.
Itās so grating, I want to bash his head on the ice and watch his blood paint the white red. It would be an impressive painting to collect, in my humble opinion.
āGood luck with that.ā I start to bypass him, because heās so not fucking fun. I prefer Dicky and his friends, who get red at the merest shit I say.
Osborn is an anomaly Iād rather not deal with.
He subtly shifts in front of me, blocking my path, and just when Iām about to shove him away, he lifts my chin with his gloved index finger, tilting my head back so Iām staring up at him.
For the first time, the look in his eyes changes, light slipping through.
No, itās not light.