Page 71 of Fuckboy Psychos (Scarlett Force 1)
“Enough,” I snap, my voice like a whip. “Would you race me for the right to see her?”
“Would you put your body on the line again?” Aspen asks, and I feel Bohnes tense up beside me. I can’t help the scowl that takes over my mouth, twisting my expression into something wicked and grotesque.
“Somehow I have a feeling that you wouldn’t give her up even if I did,” I snap, and he shrugs, sliding his hands into the pockets of his charcoal-colored slacks. A moth lands on the roof of the Mustang and he glances over at it, holding out a finger. The moth climbs onto it and he lifts it to his face to look at it.
For a second there, I wonder if he isn’t going to pull its wings off, but then it takes off and he drops his hand by his side again.
“You’d be right on that account,” he agrees, shrugging loosely.
I know I shouldn’t bother talking to this skid mark, but there’s a certain sense of curiosity in me that I can’t stifle.
“By the way, what the fuck is wrong with your friend?” I query, and Aspen pauses, his frown deepening.
“Who?” he asks, and I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. He doesn’t deserve such a garden-variety expression.
“The guy with the gloves,” I explain, feeling my nerves pinch with annoyance. My fingers itch, and I can tell you right now that if I had Bohnes’ machete in hand, I might actually use it on this idiot. As if he doesn’t know who I’m talking about. What a smart-ass.
It takes him a minute, like he has to actually think about it to put two and two together. Either he cares so little about Alexei that he barely remembers who I’m talking about or else he truly is as insane as he appears to be.
“Oh, him.” Aspen’s frown deepens further, and he stares down at my shoes instead of my face, still dirty from fucking Bohnes like a wild woman in the woods. With Widow watching. I mean, he said he wasn’t, but let’s be honest. What else would he be doing out there?
“He has some issues. His mother got sick and passed away a few years ago. Since then, he’s been strange with the gloves and the wipes and whatever else it is that he does.” Aspen shrugs as if none of this matters to him, but I can’t help but be intrigued by Alexei. “Why? Did you like him?”
There’s a hint of a tease in those words, but something else, too. Jealousy? What the fuck?
Bohnes makes an annoyed sound behind me, more like a hiss than any actual human word in any known language.
“You want to fuck other guys?” he asks, looking between me and Aspen. “Why not start with him?” He gestures in Aspen’s direction, scowling at me as he does it. He circles around to my other side, challenging me.
I can see it in his eyes in that moment, that I have to make a move now or I’m going to end up with a real problem on my hands. As much as I liked the gift of that perv’s fingers, I can’t let Bohnes mark me as his property. I’m just not that sort of girl, and I can’t allow him to consume me the way Lemon lets men consume her.
Clearly, he sees my repulsion toward Aspen Kelly. This is a safe bet, right? He got Widow away from me—arguably the only other man in Prescott that I’ve showed even a remote interest in. But my questions about Alexei? My conversation with Aspen?
It’s triggering every jealous, possessive, psychotic impulse that Bohnes has.
He doesn’t think I’m going to do it.
I shouldn’t do it.
At times, I find Aspen Kelly so repulsive that I truly want to kill him, that I find my murderous impulses almost impossible to ignore, a tide that threatens to drown me beneath cool, foamy waters. Choking on salt. My body slammed against sharp rocks.
At other times? Like right now, with the moth, and the scent of roses, the way he stares at me like I’m something intriguing …
I step forward, my eyes a challenge, my body language daring either of them to stop me. I put my arms around Aspen’s neck, my fingers teasing the silken strands of the dark hair that brushes against the neckline of his sweater.
His gaze lights up, and his tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. By the time I rise up to my toes and press my mouth against his, he’s ready. His arms tighten around me, squeezing me close. I can feel his heart thundering as his lips slide against mine. I make sure to use my tongue first, and he lets out a smooth, almost criminally polished laugh as I take over, forcing myself down his throat.
