Avenge Me. Maisey Yates

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Avenge Me - Maisey Yates


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and he wasn’t the media whore his father was.

      Austin preferred to keep his head down and do his work. He preferred to stay away from the spotlight. Passion, lust, greed, a desire for fame. It all corrupted.

      He looked over his date for the night. Well, tonight he would be indulging two of those infamous corrupters.

      And he couldn’t find any regret for it.

      “I have a guest,” he said, the words heavy with meaning. “I shall need the appropriate amenities.”

      “Of course, sir. A code will be texted to your phone,” the man on the other end said. “It will grant you admittance to your room. No need to check in at the desk. All supplies you might need for yourself and your guest will be waiting.”

      “Perfect,” he said, hanging up. “We’re set for the night. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

      He looked at her, blue eyes wide, a slight tremble in her full lower lip. That little bit of sass and confidence he’d seen in her earlier had waned a bit. She looked vulnerable. She made him feel a bit like a predator.

      And damned if he couldn’t muster up any remorse for that. Damned if it didn’t make him a little bit harder.

      She met his eyes. “No. I haven’t changed my mind. Only...the shrimp. I didn’t get any.”

      “I can order you shrimp. Room service.”

      “From Maine?”

      “From any damn place you want.”

      The corner of her mouth twitched. “How can a girl say no to that?”

      “I don’t know, but if you’re going to say no,” he said, his voice rough, everything in him feeling rough, “do it now.”

      She looked down, and she seemed to be seriously considering it. He didn’t think he could handle her refusal now. He was too far gone.

      One kiss, and he was too far gone.

      “I’m not going to say no.”

      He wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her up against his body. And he didn’t care if anyone else walked out into the hall. He didn’t care about a damn thing except for the feeling of her breasts against his chest, the harsh, rapid pattern of her breathing bringing them up tighter against him, before giving him a brief reprieve, then repeating.

      He felt as if he were on the edge of breaking completely. The world was splintering around him; his self-control was shattering inside of him.

      He wanted to seize it. Take it back with both hands. Claim it. Over her bare body, and if that was wrong, he couldn’t muster up the energy to care. Not now.

      But she had to agree. Because now that he’d given himself permission to do this, to act on it...he wasn’t sure how far it might go.

      “Be sure,” he said. “I am short on self-control tonight, if what I’ve said to you here wasn’t enough of an indicator. I don’t want to hurt you. But once we’re in the hotel room? I’m in charge. I will have what I want. So while we’re out here, you have the chance to tell me you don’t want that. If you want a sweet night of making love, then, darling, you need to find another man. That’s not what I want tonight. I don’t want to hold you, and go slow and tender. Tonight? I want you hard. I want you fast. I want you every time I ask. I want you on your knees. Tonight, you’re mine. If that’s not what you want? Get another guy to go home with you. You won’t have any trouble finding one. If that’s okay with you...don’t act like you weren’t warned.”

      “You’re in charge?” she asked, her voice unsteady.

      “Yes.”

      “You’ll tell me what to do?” she asked, the black in her eyes expanding, the blue turning to a little sliver of color.

      “Yes. Because once we’re in that suite, you’re mine.” He’d never said things like this to a woman in his life. He was polite. Courteous. Respectful.

      Never once had he given in to that desire to ask a woman to get on her knees in front of him and do what she was told.

      Never once had he spoken with such absolute honesty about what he wanted. Because he’d never been this honest with himself about what he wanted. Because he spent his life in denial of those ugly things, the twisted shadows in his soul, the dirty blood that he couldn’t escape.

      “Then let’s go,” she said.

      “This is what you want?”

      “Do I have to say it again?”

      “Do I have to tell you what I want again?”

      “Only if you want me to push you up against the wall and have you here and now,” she said. “Because I’ve never had a man say anything like that to me before, and I have to tell you, it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

      “Then I suppose we better get to our room.”

      She swallowed hard, the motion of her throat fascinating. He wanted to press his lips to it. He wanted to scrape her skin with his teeth and listen to the sound she would make.

      He wanted to feel her shiver beneath his touch.

      “Yes,” he said again. “We need to go. Now.”

      “You going to call us a car?”

      “I have a car.”

      “Oh.”

      “I mean, a driver.”

      “That makes more sense. Kind of.”

      He held his hand out and she took it, delicate fingers curling around his. “I assume you want to get out without being seen?”

      “I’d rather not parade back through the ballroom, now that you mention it.”

      “You don’t want to advertise that you’re leaving with me?”

      “Not so much. Can we keep it clandestine? That’s pretty sexy, really.”

      “You’re ashamed,” he said.

      A slash of color faded into her cheeks. “Maybe a little.”

      “Because you want me so much.”

      “Yes.”

      “And that’s bad to you, isn’t it?”

      “Yes,” she said. “I think having sex with a stranger is pretty bad.”

      “But you sort of like the idea of being a bad girl, don’t you?”

      The color in her cheeks deepened. “Seriously, let’s go.”

      “We’re going to have fun,” he said, tugging her down the empty hall. Fun was the wrong word for it, though. He could already sense that.

      But it would be a release.

      And he needed one. More than he’d realized.

      When they got into the elevator and the doors closed, he felt the tension wrap around them like a cloak. Thick and heavy. He thought it might suffocate him. He could have her. Push the stop button and push her against the wall. Work it out in five minutes. Take the edge off the intense need.

      But it wasn’t what he wanted. Not really.

      He wanted to make them both wait.

      Wanted to have her to himself. A whole night. A night to play with his demons instead of shoving them down deep. He would feel worse if he didn’t get the sense that she was doing the same. That she was about to perform an exorcism, using his body as holy water.

      That suited him just fine.

      But the wait didn’t.

      “These elevators are effing slow,” she said, letting out a long breath as a five


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