The Punk and the Plaything (When Rivals Play #3) - B.B. Reid Page 0,2

That rage turned to sheer panic when my gaze connected with the tallest offender.

Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe for a different reason entirely. My only solace was that he looked just as shocked, although he recovered much quicker. Nostrils flaring, he took a threatening step forward before stopping short and blinking as if remembering where he was…and that there were witnesses. With curled lips, his gaze swept over me from my heeled feet to my perspiring hairline.

I stood perfectly still, knowing that if I tried to run, he’d chase me. It was all for the best. I wasn’t so sure my legs wouldn’t give out the moment I tried to get away.

“Well, isn’t this the most delicious surprise.”

My head confirmed what my eyes were showing me, but my stubborn heart still refused to believe. Jamie was back from Ireland? Why hadn’t Ever told me? Neither of those answers seemed to matter as much as why Jamie was back.

The short sleeves of the button up he wore were rolled and bunched at the shoulders, displaying the muscles he’d grown since I’d last seen him four years ago. The white cotton only pronounced his tanned skin. He’d left the buttons undone, allowing anyone who laid eyes on him to see his hard chest and defined abs…and the many tattoos that covered them. Most of them were angry and aggressive, almost scary as if he were showing off his demons for anyone to see. Recalling my sweet Jamie from long ago, and what happened the last time I’d seen him, I knew I was responsible for every one of them.

Gone was the gentle boy next door with a full mop of hair, a lanky body, and an easy smile. This boy standing before me was darker, edgier…more tragic to my lonely, fragile heart. Was that yearning burning in the pit of my stomach or fear of the unknown? Because I didn’t know this Jamie, and judging by the wicked gleam in his eyes as he flashed that mocking grin, I didn’t want to know.

“What the hell are you doing back here?”

“Is that any way to greet your first love? I got to say”—his gaze slowly traced every dip and curve of my body—“I love how well you’ve grown up, Bette.”

“First love?” I scoffed, even though it felt like he’d stolen my breath. “You were hardly that.”

“Then what was I?” he challenged, backing me against the opposite wall. “I’m breathless to hear more of your lies.”

“You were nothing.”

He flashed me that sad, beautiful smile I hadn’t realized I’d missed so much. I stood perfectly still as his wolfish gaze ate me up. As close as he stood now, he wouldn’t miss a single fucking flaw. There were many, but no one dared looked close enough to see. I might as well have been Medusa. As he ran his gaze over me, I took the time to study him as well, noting the silver bar piercing his right brow and the small diamond in his right nostril. I could have sworn I’d even glimpse a flash of metal piercing his nipples. Jamie had taken all that sinful deliciousness he naturally possessed and multiplied it by ten thousand. As if the world didn’t already have enough injustices.

“You’re so beautiful. Did it hurt?” He kept his gaze on me as he turned his head and blew out smoke.

“Did what hurt?” I could feel the heat from Jamie’s cigarette when he defiantly brushed his thumb across my bottom lip. To Jamie’s knowledge, I belonged to his cousin now, but he clearly didn’t give a damn.

“When you fell from heaven, Satan.”

I slapped his hand away while telling myself to get a grip. Jamie might have surprised me, but he was nothing I couldn’t handle. “Get lost, Jameson.”

Tapping the end of his cigarette, he sprinkled ash onto my designer blouse. A piece of the flame had fallen, burning through the sheer material, scorching my skin. Before now, I’d never thought Jamie capable of hurting me. The truth was now so blatantly blazed into our history that it could never be unwritten.

Without warning, he pressed closer until I could see nothing but the angry blackness of his eyes. “I’m afraid I’m not going anywhere. By the time I’m done with you, Barbette Montgomery, you’ll be crawling back to me… but I doubt I’ll want my cousin’s sloppy thirds.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath.” I wasted little time pushing him away. Tragically, the moment my hand connected with his warm skin, the electricity threatening