Kiss Me Dangerous

30| Generous and Gentle

Lola

It was a darkness that filled the space between us with each heavy breath, thrumming with the flimsy beat of my heart as a thrill sparked against my most spineless thoughts, pooling in the base of my stomach and igniting against the heat of my core.

I should have been scared of the atrocities he was capable of committing, and I should have been horrified of how comfortable he was with dealing in the acts of violence, but the more I had gotten to know him—the more stupid I seemed to get.

Freddie had just threatened to torture and kill someone for me, and even though I couldn't think of anyone more deserving of his wrath than my bastard of an ex-boyfriend, I doubted that the sanest reaction to any of this was to press my thighs together to stop the ache that was sprouting between them.

He was a psychotic murderer, a merciless gangster, an all-round arrogant asshole—and even past all of his misgivings, he still managed to turn me on like a fucking light switch.

It was a useless, senseless feeling—trapping me in a cage of unstable lust and kissing him had been the catalyst.

It sealed our fate three times over as I yielded to his demands, the taste of his tongue still on my lips as I tried my best to wade through the haze of my idiocy.

If he had asked me again, I wouldn't have stopped him from fucking me in his backseat. Not a single complaint would have fallen from my lips as he pushed me into place and took me in the most depraved of ways. It was an irrational response to all of this, and yet the air around us tightened with every breath I took and I couldn't help but feel disappointed when he didn't act on any of it.

Instead, the hand he had used to wrap around my throat circled around the gearstick as he pushed it into place, turning the car back onto the road as if he hadn't just sworn to make sure that my ex would pay violently for all that he had done to me.

The bags of groceries in the boot shifted in their place as the car picked up its speed once more, and suddenly nothing had ever felt more insane.

Out of all the situations he had put me through, after the death wishes and the guns aimed at my head, after I had stripped naked under his father's command, after his brother had fucked me with his fingers in the shadows of backroom all so that he could prove a fucked-up little point, you'd think that this ordinary moment would have made me more trusting of him—except all it had managed to do was fuel the major freakout I was now having in my head.

Freddie King wasn't the type of man who did anything out of the kindness of his heart, unless he was planning to get something out of it in return. This act had to be a part of the filthy game he was already playing with me, an attempt to catch me off guard so that he'd be able to use it against me later. Either way, he was keeping his cards close to his chest and I wasn't naïve enough to believe that his generosity wouldn't eventually come with a cost and a consequence.

In the past few weeks, I knew better than to think he could be anything other than mean—well, at least that was what I had thought until I found myself in his passenger seat with hundreds of pounds worth of groceries in the back, and two more kisses added to the list of what the hell was I thinking?

Regardless of whatever his intentions were for me right now in this little blip of selflessness he found himself in, I was way too tired to think about what it would mean for me the next time I saw him.

I yawned as I pressed a hand to my mouth to stifle the sound, my heart jolting in my chest as his head snapped towards the motion. His gaze narrowed on me like he took direct offence to my exhaustion, my cheeks flaring with my embarrassment as another yawn trembled past my lips in response to his scrutiny. He grumbled out a length of inaudible words before he focused on the road again, his grip on the steering wheel tightening and my heart thumping to attention when he suddenly made a sharp turn into a Mcdonald's drive-through.