chxpter bcoz it's 'x' rated hehe

WARNING-- the following chapter contains mature content! 18+

(also double warning if you know me IRL pls skip)

...

​​"Giv-."

"You have four hit orders out on you!" He closes his eyes, shaking his head like that's a distraction he can't handle now.

"How the fuck you know that-." Frustrated beyond measure, I snatch at his back pocket but he retaliates, the both of us stumbling. He catches the wall to stop from bowling me over, and my shoulders smack the plaster. I grunt, cringing at the sharp twinge in my shoulder blade, but then I shove at him, "How the fuck you know that?"

"I should've fuckin' known," He neutralises my attempt to bully him away from me by forcing me back at the wall. "You make that call and you're signing your own death hit. Stop being fuckin' stupid." His voice bubbles with pure animosity, like my recklessness has personally affronted him.

"I, can do, what I, like," I shove, "You saw the time. It's four and a half till I'm thrown in with Trent." One and a half hours until Scorpius comes. "You're not even guaranteed that long, they might pluck you as we speak-."

Reid restrains me for good by placing his hand at the base of my neck, the warmth of his skin making the sensitive part above my collar bones shiver.
He dips his head over me to nail home the pent up threat in his eyes. Slowly, evenly, he grates out a reply, "You think I don' know that?" He snarls out, dipping his head over me. Heat sears my lips, as though he just waved a molten steel pole over them, and my breath catches in my chest when he doesn't surrender the distance he claimed. The deep lure of his voice, the way the storm in his grey eyes softens for a moment, lulled by distraction, but then. Then thunder clashes and he adjusts his hold on me, glowering down with a new heat. The action isn't threatening, like it could've been if he had grabbed me by my throat, but it's domineering enough to still my defence. His dark glare narrows in when my resistance falters.

I blink up at him, but his glare practically crackles with conflicted desire. With our attention broken from the argument, a flicker of transparency dances between us. Mutually, we intuit that neither of us wan' interrupt the urge to call it quits with this bullshit game of chicken. I part my lips, inching closer so he can feel my breasts brush his chest and my navel against his hips.

Reid kisses me.

His lips are edged by a hungry bite, he takes my mouth and I relish it, kissing him back until we're arguing over dominance, except I realise how much he was holding back last night. He picks me up against the wall, manhandling my legs so that my thighs are wrapped around his hips. I pry my top over my head, and he unlatches my bra, but even when he grinds me into the plaster, he pries my hands off like he still can't pick what he wants.

His kiss is angry. He refuses to back down, opening my mouth until our breathing gets hotter, but I make a whining noise and he bites my bottom lip. He's not being fair, I'm... he tongues me slow and hard, and my head goes empty.

Reid lifts me by my ass and I open my legs around him, balling my fingers in his hair so I can tip his head back.

I change the angle and open the kiss, wrapping my arm across his shoulders so he's forced to submit to me. It surprises him so much that he makes a deep noise, making a roll of arousal take me for a spin, only growing thicker when his grip on me tightens. He lets me kiss him, his breathing spiking when I bite his lip. He likes it. "Fück," He mutters, dropping his hold on my ass so that I practically slip down him and land on my feet with a thunk.

"Are you jok-." I start, but he kisses me again, pulling me in by my ass.

I tug at his pants and he loses it, walking me backwards so that we're pressed into each other, and his hard aches against my stomach, just egging me on. His glare rakes my face, and he collects the crook of my jaw in his large hand, smoothing back a lock of hair with his thumb as he breathes out a frustrated laugh, "of course you play rough," his deep voice is raspy, wilder than I've ever heard it. His electric eyes don't give me any hint, but his thudding heart and livid body confirms that he likes it. That no matter how much he might roil against it, he likes me.

"You bit first," literally and figuratively.

Reid scoffs out a scornful laugh, "you-."

Fed up with arguing, I dig my heels in and he tries to overpower me but, on an impulse, I drop to my knees.

Instantly his hand finds the back of my head, and I look up at him as his horny glare flares. Reid's eyes flash with satisfaction before he can restrain himself. His unkempt desire thrills me, but then his expression dips back into a rude glare, like he's trying to spook me off. He's concealing how much he wan' me cause he can't admit how pent up he is. I spite him by balling my fists in his pockets and wrenching his trackies.

He tips his head back, angry and aroused, but he laces his fingers in my hair and drinks a breath in. It fills my head with ideas. The swell of his cock in his briefs makes the aching between my legs unbearable, and my gaze falls to his muscular quads, but I look up at him through my lashes, making a show of avoiding what he really wants by pulling his pants all the way down. I slip my phone out of his back pocket, placing it in my waistband discreetly.

He kicks them off, his chest heaving as he tries to stifle his desire for a release. So, I kiss his thigh, tracking progressively wetter, and meaner love bites up his quad and over his briefs, before I pry the elastic down. He flexes his fingers in my hair.

I nearly gulp when I realise just how big he is, but when I catch him looking at me with jaded eyes I don' give him the inclination that I'm more than glad for the revelation... except he grins like a cock-sure idiot, because he knows I am.

I run my lips up his shaft, and his hold on my head stretches for the length of him, but when I take him into my mouth his fever instantly eases, like I've somehow fixed the ache already.

I hold eye contact as I work him back and forth. His dark glare wilts, and he tips his head back slightly, arching his hips into me. The view of him above me, of his abs, his chest, his forearms, it drives me over. I make a soft noise as I struggle for the size of him, and he looks back at me, breathing heavier, "fuck, Vi," he groans, and the thin mist of perspiration that begins to dampen his skin, the wild way he balls his fingers in my hair like it's the only thing stopping him from interrupting this and bending me over the mattress... My own heart thuds, and I arch my hips against my heels, digging my knees harder into the carpet to curb the ache between my legs. I let him guide me deeper with every take, struggling against myself. I wan' give him this, I wan' see him completely beyond control because of me, but there's a spiteful part of me that can't give in . Not when he can't even give me an answer for why they'll kill him tonight.
Terror pinches my chest. His breathing starts to get erratic, and I run my hand up the ridges of his abdomen, wanting to see him tip over the edge.
But I pull away. He balls his fist in my hair, but I tug his briefs back up and grab his hips so I can pull myself up. Unable to stop myself, I let my lips graze him over the fabric, enjoying as his chest rises and falls heavily.

The veins in his lower abs are so alive that it looks painful, but in my moment of spite I relish the fact he probably wants it so bad that it hurts.

"You're fückin' mean," he rasps, wild, but still he loses his grip in my hair. His lips hover over mine, and I can feel the heat rolling off him as he tries to control himself.

"Touche, cünt." I snap, putting distance between us as I retrieve my phone.

His gaze lasers in, but just when I think I've got away with it, he darts forward with shocking speed and snags it, tossing it behind him. It's like he's telling me to focus on him. To focus on, this.

I gasp, about to pursue the black device as it lands on the carpet, but then I come face to face with him.

He taunts me silently, telling me to try retrieve it. Do it, Warrendale. His features crackle with pent up want and frustration, opening his mouth accusingly as we both grapple to catch our breath. But he never crosses the line into anger.

My gaze slips to his muscular torso which rises and falls feverishly, but his glare prickles at my shameless attention. Intimidatingly, he twists to tower over me, and his tattoos move under the shadows. Two Egyptian gods stand at odds across his lean abdomen, like they're amid a grand argument.

My heart squeezes when he pressures the distance between us, forcing me to tip my jaw back so I can keep his gaze. Every fibre of my body seems to grow hyper-vigilant of my inability to move. With our eyes locked in a silent argument, he reproaches me with just the right amount of measure, knowing that he might spook me if he's a degree too eager. It terrifies me, because there's nothing stopping me from pulling away. This is as much my decision as his... but no matter how much I deny it, I want to submit to his question.

I avert my gaze, casting my eyes at his collar bone, even as I feel him all around me. His smell is intoxicating. Clean, but with a hint of smoke, like he'll never truly manage to wash the Lake Darling out of him. "Look at me, Vi," he rasps, his command thrumming with a sort of dominance that is so, male, that it both entices and terrifies me.

Stubbornly, I glare at his tan skin.

"You gon' avoid this, until they take me off your hands?" His deep voice is so close to my ear I can practically feel how it vibrates through his throat.

I flit my gaze up, irritated by his dig. "Avoid what?" As far as I'm concerned, all I'm avoiding is sleeping with him.

But his eyes fix me in place, and I know he means that we've both been pussy footing around something bigger than physical attraction.

I search his grey eyes, but my lips part when he takes gentle hold of the side of my face. When I don't resist. When I tip my head back, before he kisses me again, slower, deeper. He bites slightly, and heat rolls down me, the eb of attraction that consumes me so overpowering that it triggers an emotional trip-wire. 

This is more than lust, or some horny reflex, it's attraction. It's feelings. 

I duck back, overwhelmed by the fact I just did everything in my power to piss him off, to test his boundaries, and he never once retaliated with force. Never used his strength to trump me.

I clamber onto the bed and dive into the pillows. I'm aware that the view of my bare back and the slope of my ass is probably favourable, and entirely unfair, but I can't stop the instinctual urge to run. To conceal.

I try to stop myself from breathing so hard, crooking my leg to stop the unbearable throbbing. How does he do this shīt to me?

His footsteps sound out, and the mattress dips which makes me wet with anticipation, but I stomp it all down.

"You're driving me mad."

I arch my hips again, adjusting my legs to try and dispel the ache. The mattress bows and my resolve quivers when he places his hand so close to my body that his thumb brushes my naked breast. I grapple the pillow beneath me, lacing my arms above my head and tucking my face out of his view.

Reid places a kiss between my shoulder blades, and I press my eyes closed, hating the clench in my chest, "You're angry."

Fuming. At myself. At this pressure cooker of a situation. "You don' say."

He kisses me again and I shiver when he bites, "You don' make sense."

"I, don't?" I breathe, exasperated, "You call me reckless, yet you got a damn sniper dot between your eyes... an' now you won't even spill why?"

He groans, "Vi." His voice is driving me insane.

"You've been hiding everything. Pointing the finger of blame at me. You, you," I grit my teeth, battling myself. "I might never see you again." I pass my emotion off by stretching my arms into the pillows, reaching to try and shrug the comforter over myself, but he doesn't let me hide anymore.

"No." He rasps, his blind proximity setting my skin aflame.

A burst of anger grips me and I twist under him. "What?" I glower.

"I'm not telling you."

"Why?" I could fight him.

His handsome features war between a litany of emotions as he searches my face, "Because it's about to get me killed. I'm not gon' risk hurting you with it."

"Do you know how unfair that is?" I make myself keep a level voice, but the intensity of his attention becomes too much to bear so I look away, choosing to distract myself with the tattoo on his bicep. Shutting this down would be the safe option. It'd save us from this train wreck.

Silence resounds for an aching moment, "Unfair?" His scepticism is like a window to his soul.

I'm so aware of my vulnerability that my skin tingles but I can't avoid it anymore. "Yes." I croak, "you been keeping shit secret, an' putting me under a microscope, and now you're about to get-," My voice catches, "now I'm never gon' see you again and I don't even have time to be mad at you," I shake my head, refusing to say another word for fear of crying.

He falls quiet, his lips parting and his scrutiny dissipating into a nauseating bout of guilt, "Vi."

"No, screw you," a frown pinches my face as I battle not to give in. "I've done everything in my fuckin' power to scare you off, because, I know you." I laugh incredulously.

Reid's glare hits me, the defensive spark in his grey eyes like a silver flash of electricity. Careful, Myers, I can see that chip on your shoulder. "What's that mean, Warrendale?" He warns.

I glower at him, his demanding glare taunting me, like he don' think I have it in me to call his bullshit. "Fine." I snap, "You treat chicks like Cola like total shit so that when they still chase you, then it's not your fault if you get them hurt. And what's worse is you get away with it. Every time."

He laughs incredulously, but I know I hit a nerve. "Oh so now you're giving me dating advice? Jesus, I'm sorry I've got game," He peppers his sarcasm with an incredulous expression, like he's convinced I'm certifiably mad.

Fire burns my insides, "Oh, you do, because you're hot," I snarl, "and bitches go dumb for you. But I'm not dumb. I'm not stupid enough to get hurt over you. I'm not stupid enough to notice that no matter how rude or heated shit gets, you never-. That you," my voice cracks, "you tricked me into, fuckin' trusting you. Like every other dumb bitch who chases you for your potential."

Reid's jaw slackens, searching for a retort, "Oh and you're not the same?" He balks, unable to defend himself. "You're not just as fuckin' toxic? You actively avoid sharing anything about yourself. You take everything on alone, you can't trust anyone-."

"What's that fucking mean?" I snap.

He narrows his eyes, "I'm not blind, I saw you that first night. Something happened when they took you but you haven't even told Elias. You know how dysfunctional that is?"

My breath catches, the mere insinuation of my mother's death making my heart squeeze, "Oh that's the pot calling the kettle black." I accuse, diverting from the admission that he's really trying to get out of me. "Fine. Shoot me, I don' like sharing-." I cut myself off, not liking to admit I hate revealing myself to people, "If I'm dysfunctional then you're damn right emotionally repressed!" I shove his shoulder out of the way and pull myself off the bed, arm around my naked torso as I approach the bathroom.

"Oh yeah, run away." I slam the door. "It's alright. Wilkes might pluck me before you got to come out."

I stifle a scream of rage.

...

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