Page 114 of Fuckboy Psychos (Scarlett Force 1)
“Talk to me for a minute or I’ll be forced to spit on your windshield. You wouldn’t like that, would you?”
“You wouldn’t enjoy a needle shoved into the metacarpal ligaments of your hand, would you?”
Oh. I like that retort.
“Nice use of anatomical lingo. Did you think I’d be too stupid to understand it? Or that it would intimidate me?” I lean down, folding my arms on the edge of his door, and his pale face gets even paler. Not as pale as Bohnes, I guess, but with Kellin, it’s like he was born that white, you know? Alexei looks like he might have a bit of color normally but chooses to avoid any instance of sunlight touching his skin. “I just want to talk, just for a minute.”
“One minute,” he says, swallowing hard and snatching his phone in a gloved hand. He legitimately sets a timer on it and then opens the sewing kit, removing a silver thimble with a long, sharp nail that seems to defeat the entire purpose of what a thimble is supposed to be.
There’s a small amount of cork beneath the nail, and I watch in fascination as Alexei inserts a needle into it before turning to look at me with a distinct challenge in his gaze.
“If you don’t remove your arms from my door before that timer ends, I will shove this needle into the nearest available body part—whether it’s your hand, your shoulder, your face. It doesn’t matter to me.”
I nod my head in understanding.
“Smart trick, the needle thing. I bet with that thimble you could shove it all the way in, and it’d go real, real deep.” I emphasize this last word in a purr and, I’m sure I’m not imagining this, he shifts slightly in his seat. I look down to see if I can’t catch a glimpse of his trousers, but he drops his left hand there to hide any possible evidence. “From the looks of it, the tip of the nail portion must come off like a cap or something. What’s in there?”
“Poison.”
He doesn’t sound like he’s joking.
Holy fuck.
“Okay, let me make this quick.” I glance over at the timer on his phone to see that I’ve already wasted half of my precious minute. “Are you attending Aspen Kelly’s engagement party on Friday?”
There’s a slight hesitation on Alexei’s part before he answers. While I’m waiting—and time is ticking away second by the second—I can’t help but admire the perfection of his slightly curled dirty blond hair or the way it frames his elegant face.
Aspen is a rich boy sure, but he’s got this strange, unfiltered darkness to him, this fractured, unstable quality that turned me on so hard the other night. But he’s missing whatever it is that Alexei has, some sort of innate self-confidence that somehow doesn’t border on arrogance.
He’s beautiful and rich and educated, and he knows it. He isn’t ashamed of it. Somehow, it feels like all of that is balanced with his OCD or germaphobe issues or whatever clinical name there might be for the way he acts. Doesn’t bother me. Actually, it fascinates me.
There’s this wicked part of me that wants to yank this door open and straddle his lap, grind my wet cunt all over his body, lick the side of his neck, put my tits in his face. He’d squirm and fight me at first, but I bet in the end, he’d like it.
He’d like me making him dirty that way.
I blink past my sick fantasies—yeah, I’m mental, I get it—as Alexei sighs and finally deigns to answer.
“My father and I both have received invitations, if that’s what you’re asking. As to whether or not I’ll attend, I can’t say. I have no desire to.”
The timer ticks down its last seconds and, unwilling to deal with the needle poked through the cork of the thimble, I remove my arms and back up a step. He immediately moves to roll his window up, but since it’s an old car, it’s manual. It takes a second, despite his frantic pumping.
“Race me,” I blurt out, before the window is fully raised up. Bohnes’ car has just trundled up the hill after a few loud victory laps, and there’s nobody else on the roster tonight. “I want to attend that party and the only way I can think to go is as your date.”
Alexei Grove just fucking stares at me, like I’ve begged him to stick his dick in my tight, little cunt. He seems both repulsed and fascinated by the offer. Not my dirty sex thoughts but, like, what I’ve actually just said aloud.
“What are you looking to gain by attending?” he asks, tilting his head at me. “If Aspen promised you something, don’t believe it. He lies. He fucks as many girls as he can get his hands on. Pleading to his better side will fall on deaf ears as he has none at all that I’ve ever seen. His brother—”
