Page 58 of Illusionist
Her jaw tightens at the reminder. “I'm still married to him, technically. One more thing I need to fix when this is all over.”
“You know what happened to you was self-defense, right? Even if he reported it, which he probably didn't, you were protecting yourself from an abuser.”
Nova blinks at me. “You think he didn't report it?”
I scoff. “Men like Roman don't call the police when their victims fight back. Too many questions about why a grown man was sleeping with a fifteen-year-old.”
For the first time since she entered the trailer, Nova looks genuinely surprised. “I never thought about that.”
“He was breaking the law long before you put a blade in him.” I shake my head, my lip curling with disgust. “Any investigation would have put him under scrutiny he couldn't afford.”
She absorbs this, and I can see the wheels turning behind her eyes. The hope and anger warring for dominance.
“I hate that I'm still legally tied to him.” Her voice is quiet, venomous. “I wish he had died that night. I wish I'd been brave enough to finish the job.”
That's when the door opens again, and Silas enters with that wolfish grin that makes my pulse spike.
“Don't worry about Roman, baby,” he says, his voice carrying dark promise. “I'm already making plans for his unfortunate demise.”
The casual way he discusses murder should horrify me. Should trigger every law enforcement instinct I possess. Instead, I find myself thinking that Roman Miller deserves whatever these people have planned for him. Still…
“You can't just—” I start, but Silas cuts me off with a laugh.
“Can't just what, Agent Coleman? Plan to eliminate a threat to the woman I care about? Can't discuss it in front of a federal agent?”
He moves closer, and I catch his scent—that dark, masculine cologne that makes my mouth water despite everything.
His blue eyes glitter with dangerous amusement. “But you're not planning to report any of this, are you?”
The question is suffocating. Because we all know the answer, don't we? I came here to investigate these people, and instead, they stripped me naked in more ways than one.
I'm not walking away from this trailer the same man who entered it. I'm not sure I'm walking away at all.
“You can't discuss murdering someone in front of a federal agent,” I say weakly, “unless that agent is never leaving this carnival.”
Silas's grin is absolutely feral. “Now you're catching on.”
20
NOVA
The trailer feels electric with tension, thick enough to cut with a knife. Teddy sits there, restrained and naked, his impressive cock standing at full attention despite—or maybe because of—everything we’ve put him through. The sight of him like this, vulnerable but clearly aroused, sends heat pooling low in my belly.
Silas must notice my reaction because he suddenly yanks me against his chest, his hands sliding over my hips. His breath is hot against my ear when he whispers, “You like looking at him, don't you, little fugitive?”
I can't deny it. Teddy Coleman is gorgeous in that clean-cut, all-American way that's the complete opposite of Silas's dark magnetism. Where Silas is all sharp edges and dangerous beauty, Teddy is warm golden skin and hazel eyes. The contrast is intoxicating.
“What if we gave him a real show?” Silas murmurs, his voice low and rough. “Let him watch while I fuck you senseless? Make him sit there with that hard cock and not be able to touch himself?”
The idea shoots through me like lightning, and I moan before I can stop myself.
“What are you doing?” Teddy's voice is strained, his eyes darting between us as Silas starts pulling at my shirt.
I meet his gaze directly, letting him see the heat in my eyes. “Just sit back and enjoy the show, Agent Coleman.”
“Fuck no,” he groans, his hips shifting. “That's torture.”
“That's the point,” Silas says, tossing my shirt aside.
