Page 46 of Altered By Lead (Undercover Sinners 2)
"You're going to deny it?" he asks, his voice hardening again. You'd think, with that much steel in his voice that he'd lose a bit in his cock, but that doesn't happen. Hawke might be pissed off at me, but he's still very clearly down to fuck.
"Love is not a luxury I can allow myself, sir," I spit back, trembling in his arms, wishing I were the old Natalia for just a split-second, so that I could screw this guy and enjoy it and not worry about anything else. But instead, I'm this new person who's starting to care about things, who thinks about consequences, who expects better. "And what have you ever done to make me fall in love with you? If you really think I'm head-over-heels already, then you've got a serious wake-up call coming. If you want my love, earn it. Now get off of me."
Hawke grits his teeth, but he doesn't move. His hands are clenched on my cheeks so hard, I'm sure I'll have bruises. Not that it matters: I'm covered in bruises from all of our goddamn training sessions.
When he doesn't move, I decide to reiterate. It's hard though, considering his, um, hardness is still buried deep inside of me. I want nothing more than to grind my hips forward, work Hawke to an orgasm, and see him fall apart as he comes. Instead, I swallow a lump in my throat and force myself to stand my ground.
"I'm not the same woman who stumbled into that church and into you. If you want to win, try harder." I shove at him again, and he lets me go, dropping me to my feet. I stumble, putting my hand against the side of the car as Hawke yanks his shirt over his head with one hand and then turns away, jacking himself off with it.
I stand there in complete and total shock, pulling my panties up and watching as Hawke thrusts into the fabric of his dark tee, and finishes, wadding the shirt up and storming down to the edge of the property where the trash cans wait. He stuffs the shirt inside, and then just starts walking down the road.
Wherever he's going, I don't care. It's not my problem.
I turn and head back up toward the front door, pausing as I hear a nice, long, slow clap from my left, turning to see Arsen leaning up against the last remaining sequoia tree on the property.
"Bravo," he says, grinning from ear-to-ear like the goddamn psychopath he is. He flicks some blond hair back from his forehead and smirks at me. "That was quite the performance. Earn it? So you won't let Hawke fuck you because you're actually in love with him? But me, who happens to despise you and want you dead, I'm just fine?"
I don't respond. Instead, I just stand there staring at his ice-blue eyes and all the sadness that craziness of his hides.
"Why don't you come over here, and I'll fuck you against this tree, make you feel a little better." Arsen makes his way toward me, but when he gets close, I step back, and a frown settles over his beautiful mouth. Those blue eyes of his darken from a summer sky to a stormy sea beneath a quiet moon.
"Arsen, I'm demanding better from everyone, including you."
"Since when?" he snarls at me, taking another step closer and curling his inked fingers against the back of my neck. The threat in his stance is implied, but I'm not afraid. He won't hurt me. He might say he wants me dead; he doesn't. It's all a bunch of bullshit. And if the guys think they're making this bet to force me to admit something to myself, well, I'm flipping the coin on its head.
It's them who needs to start admitting shit to themselves.
"Starting now," I say, tone firm.
Arsen starts to yank me forward, and I duck low, swinging my leg out and connecting with his shins. He doesn't go down—I'm not that good, not yet—but I do manage to dart away and up the stairs, putting distance between us before he loses his shit.
I make my way inside, up the stairs, and slam the door to my room, locking it before I hear the gunshots outside.
I wonder who's shooting—Hawke or Arsen—and what or whom they're shooting at.
Better just be a fucking tree.Chapter 11ArsenMy lips curve into a scowl as I watch Mace help Natalia into a strap, so she can keep her rifle on her back during our walk. Normally, I'd be so excited at the prospect of killing something that I'd be in a seriously chipper fucking mood, but even taking our little Russian princess out deer hunting isn't going to put a smile on my face.
"Arsen, I'm demanding better from everyone, including you."
