to hurt him,” I repeat, my voice now low and soft. I need him to understand this. For my sake.
“But you did, damn you,” he groans, and my belly flutters with that tersely worded groan of pain. “You fucking hurt him!”
I don’t know what to say to that.
I know Aiden’s death is still so damn fresh and I have this sinking suspicion that Julian, or Liam for that matter, hasn’t grieved for him yet and I know a lot of his anger is still buried deep within.
I’ve seen him play football from afar, thrilling an entire crowd of supporters with the way his athletic body moves on the field. I’ve witnessed the way he puts his all on the field. I’ve seen his skill, the way he moves like a well-oiled machine. The way he takes down his opponents with a singular task in mind, to destroy and to win.
Over the past three years, I’ve gotten glimpses of him here and there, and all I ever saw was anger and pain—something akin to what I’m seeing now. Something close to what I feel now.
His probing gaze searches mine, but I remain silent. After a few seconds, the pain in my chest becomes unbearable so I look away, but he growls his displeasure at that move, then with his other hand, he wraps it around my waist, harshly bring my lower body to collide with his.
And now… I can feel his thick, pulsing hardness at my stomach.
I suck in a harsh breath, as sharp arousal that I’ve been trying to avoid shoots straight down to my pussy in a flash. It’s more than an electric charge, it’s like bolts of electricity laced with wanton need has just zapped my pussy and now I’m hyperaware of him…of his hard cock right there.
“Anything you fucking want to say?” he growls, knowing exactly what he’s doing to me.
Okay. This is a mindfuck game. I’m a master at mindfuck games. I can do this.
“Your little brother deserved every word I said,” I seethe, going on the offensive. “And no matter what you might think of me, I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“It didn’t look like that when you bitch slapped him for hurting your little feelings,” he almost whispers. “Ladies don’t do that, they use their pretty words, but then you by-passed all that shit and decided to come for him, violently, because he just told you about your…issues.”
“My issues, huh?” I smile but it’s ugly and jagged, I wince internally. Somehow, this guy brings out the ugly in me. Both him and his brother, actually. “Yeah, let’s talk about issues.”
“Enlighten me.”
“First of all, the women in my family are none of his business. Calling me names is one thing but my mother and aunt—” I stop to gather myself. He just watches me with an impassive look on his face like he doesn’t understand what I’m saying. It’s freaking annoying. “The fact that he can bad-mouth them like he’s trying to somehow curse his own mother, that’s an issue.”
“Careful with what you fucking say,” he grits out, but I continue like I didn’t hear him at all.
“He’s got mommy issues.” I smirk. “And it’s not my fault your brother has…issues.” I drop my voice to a whisper, making sure that Liam doesn’t hear us, “But let’s be honest here, Julian.”
I roll his name off my tongue like a caress dipped in honey, then douse that shit in gasoline and light it up.
“Judging by your out of whack, cavemen tendencies, I bet those issues come from you.” I hold his gaze, pretending to be bold, yet I know deep down I’m throwing rocks at a sleeping monster. “You know, since you’re older and shittier, you must have made quite an impression on him if he has to come insult a girl over a nonexistent parking spot in the woods.”
That makes him livid.
“You don’t know anything about my brother.” His voice is lower than before, making shivers run down my spine. “And you certainly don’t know anything about me. You have a shitty habit of running your mouth at the worst times. Here’s some fucking free advice, have it stapled shut if you don’t know when to shut up. You don’t know shit!”
So why am I so attuned to you on some level?
“Newsflash, asshole, I don’t want to know you. I want you to take your hands off me and get lost.” I breathe. “The world doesn’t belong to you.”
For some reason, the corners of his