Page 85 of Vile Bastards
“Here’s something you might want to pick up quickly, Miss Force.” Alexei moves over to stand a careful six inches from me (definitely not the actual size of his dick) and stares me down in such a way that I know he considers himself superior to me in status. Not because of money or anything, but because he thinks he’s dominant over me.
That’s … I mean, it’s annoying but kinda cute, too.
“I’m listening.” I return his fierce glare with a coyly patronizing smile of my own, and Bohnes chuckles. He knows what’ll happen if Alexei keeps pushing my buttons: I’ll be forced to tame him. Fuckboys are like dogs: some respond well to treats and praise, but others need the fuckin’ shock collar and a muzzle. Actually, I’m kidding about that. I would never use a shock collar on a dog.
“When I say no, I mean no.” He flicks his hand out and knocks the hair dye across the floor as I sigh.
“Are all Russians this fucking cranky all the time?” I muse as Widow shakes his head in disgust, kicking over the larger of the two garbage bags. Clothing cascades across the small, faded rug beneath the table.
“Put some American flag shit on him and get him all patriotic. That’ll really amp up the disguise.” Widow hesitates, turning a sharp look on Bohnes. “Is it really safe to leave the two of them alone here together?”
“Hey, hey, he saved my life. If he wanted me dead, all he had to do was let go.” The thought makes me feel as if Pop Rocks are going off in my belly. You know the ones, that brightly colored candy that fizzles and pops on your tongue.
“I am American,” Alexei corrects, ignoring the other slight completely. That’s not unintentional on his part, I’m sure. He reaches into the duffel bag on the table and hauls out a black zip-up sweater with an MCR logo on the back of it. That is, My Chemical Romance, an emo band that was popular at the turn of the century.
“I hope you enjoy early 00’s Hot Topic chic; the bag’s full of it.” Bohnes smirks as he pauses beside me to press his lips to my cheek. “If you need to, shoot him,” he whispers, and then he’s out the door. Widow hesitates a moment, but then makes his way over to me.
Maybe he’s thinking about our bourgeois picnic at the park or the way he kissed me in the sunlight and laid me back against the surface of the picnic table? Or maybe he’s thinking about how I invited him home afterward only to find Alexis in yet another screaming fit, my mother in tears, my grandmother stone-faced and silent in her favorite chair?
Fucking cunt-punter, I think with a renewed sense of irritation. Cunt-punter is female for cock-blocker, by the way. I didn’t get any from Widow and now that I’m thinking about it, I’m pissed off all over again.
“Why the long face?” he asks, putting an arm around my waist. His jaw is clenched and as he looks me over, he grinds his teeth a little. “Mad that I didn’t come all over you in the library today?”
“I want to stab my sister,” I explain with a shrug, loving the way Widow pulls me to him so that my spine arches, and I’m leaned back over his arm like a heroine in an old movie. He’s good at that, the yanking and twirling and spinning, using his brute strength to work me like a dance partner.
“Mm. Well, don’t worry.” Widow takes my hand and puts it over his crotch as Alexei mutters in Russian from behind me. I sense serial killer vibes from him to be honest, and it freaks me out a little because that’s not an actual deal breaker. Technically, I’m already a serial killer, right? “There’s plenty more where that came from. If you like me being a dick to you, I can just keep on doing that. It isn’t a problem.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” I growl at him, but he grasps the back of my head with one hand and then drops his mouth to mine. Seriously, the man reads way too many goddamn romance novels. Although, with the way that he kisses, like he’s making a promise each and every time our mouths crash together, I don’t mind it.
Widow draws back, licking my lower lip once more before he lifts his amber eyes past me to Alexei, and then releases me. They have a small stare-off before Widow turns and follows Bohnes outside, closing the warehouse doors behind him.
As soon as he does that, the atmosphere shifts; I can feel it.
I turn around very slowly to find Alexei staring at me with those impossibly green eyes of his.
