“He’s thirty. And you didn’t say that when you made Rebel watch you suck his cock in Vegas, now, did you?”
“That was different. That was for Rebel, not for me. And it definitely wasn’t for that stupid boy.”
I lean down close so I can whisper into her ear. “I’m gonna let you into a little secret, Mother. Rebel isn’t attracted to you. He never has been, and he never will be. So you can suck as many dicks in front of him as you like. You can let an entire football team take turns at fucking you. It won’t make the slightest bit of difference. He thinks you’re a crazy, manipulative, evil piece of shit. He wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire. Do you understand?”
Maria Rosa steps back, the smile slipping from her face. A cold glint forms in her eyes; dark though they may be, right now they’re frostier than Rebel’s pale blue irises. She’s gone from horny and devious to malicious and spiteful in a heartbeat, and I know that my time down here with her should most certainly be coming to an end. “He can think whatever he likes of me,” she says slowly. “He can pretend that he’s going to punish me down here in this fucking box forever. He can treat me like an animal, deprive me of my basic rights as a human being, but trust me when I tell you this, Cade Preston. I won’t be stuck down here forever. I will get out, and when I do there will be hell to pay for this. There will be blood spilled, and people will die, and I will stand over his grave and I’ll piss on that. And I will piss on yours after his. Only then will my rage be tempered.” Her hand whips out unexpectedly, and she slaps my face, hard enough that the enclosed space echoes with the sound of her palm making contact with my cheek.
Slowly, I run my tongue over my bottom lip, tasting blood. “There she is,” I say. “Be careful, Mother. One of these days…I’m going to slap you back.”
She spits, thankfully smart enough to do it at my feet instead of in my face. “Bullshit. You’re not man enough to raise a hand to me, bastard.” Even as she swears at me, curses me, I can see the fire sparking inside her. I can feel it burning off of her. She thrives on this kind of conflict. I know as soon as I step out of the door behind me, she’ll be tearing off her clothes and making herself come. She won’t be able to stop herself.
“Eat your fucking breakfast,” I whisper. “Or don’t. I don’t give a shit.” I turn and leave, quickly inserting the key into the lock on the door, opening it and slipping through before she can try to dash through after me like she normally does.
I stand there, fuming, blood racing like wildfire through my veins as I stare at the steel door that once more separates us. I can’t stand this shit anymore. Someone else is going to have to be her fucking delivery boy. She can fling her own shit and throw as many tantrums as she damn well likes. I’m fucking done.
But still…
My heart is tripping over itself right now. My skin feels hot, prickly, uncomfortable against my clothes. Fuck that fucking bitch. Damn it. I slump back against the concrete wall behind me, Maria Rosa’s wash bag at my feet, and I stare up at the low ceiling, my retinas burning from the harsh glare of the strip lighting.
Her touch didn’t turn me on. It was her anger. Her pure, unadulterated fury. She’s fire and brimstone, the epitome of a woman scorned, and I do believe her when she says she’d do anything in her power to destroy both Rebel and me if given half the chance. But I know she’d want to fuck me senseless before she killed me. I can see the war of emotions in her all too clearly, and loathe as I am to admit it, I want to fuck her just as badly as I want to kill her, too.
My hand automatically moves to my dick. I managed to control myself back in there, but I’m having less luck out here. I’m growing harder by the second, my body overheating, feeling like I’m about to boil over. I don’t even think about it; I unbuckle my belt and unzip my fly, my head kicked back, still leaning against the wall. I let my jeans fall down over my hips and I pull down my boxers a little, allowing my erection to spring free. It would feel so much better if Maria Rosa was on her knees in front of me right now, swirling her tongue expertly around the head of my cock, moaning as she tasted me, moaning as I grew harder than granite deep in her throat. But I couldn’t trust her not to bite the fucking thing off. I couldn’t trust myself not to lose control and grab hold of her so I could hate fuck the living shit out of her until she was screaming out my name.