The Monster Page 31

Merde, merde, merde.

Triple merde with a cherry on top.

He was on to me.

“Been checking on me, Brennan?” I plastered what I hoped was a teasing smile on my face. “I’m flattered, but not surprised. Still, that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure it does. For starters, it means you are a fucking liar. My least favorite trait in people. But then I thought to myself, maybe the lie isn’t so big. Maybe it’s about prestige. Little, perfect Aisling didn’t want her parents to know she didn’t get accepted to one of the most respected hospitals in the country…” he took another step toward me, his nostrils flaring, his jaw hardening so sharply it looked like it was carved in marble “…so I went and checked with all of the hospitals in Boston, every single fucking one. Guess what?”

I didn’t have to guess. I knew.

“You’re not registered anywhere as a doctor. You turned all of them down. Every single fucking offer. At this point, I got suspicious. Did you even finish med school at all?” he asked theatrically, taking yet another step, getting closer to me, crowding me, pinning me against the wall. “So I sniffed around that angle, too. You did, in fact, graduate from Harvard Medical School. So it’s not that you aren’t a doctor.” He took the final step toward me, and now we were so close his scent and air and menace seeped into my body, hitting roots, conquering me. “Whatever you do, you’re doing it under the radar. What the fuck are you playing at, Nix?”

His body was flush against mine, big and strong and threatening. My thighs clenched together, the space between them empty and needy. I drew a deep breath, trying to steady my pulse. I had to find my voice.

“You really want to know?”

He stared at me expressionlessly. Of course he did. Sam Brennan knew everything worth knowing about everyone, and I piqued his interest.

I curled my index finger, signaling him to lean down so I could whisper in his ear. He complied, his scowl deepening with annoyance. I pressed my lips against his ear, feeling his cock, hard and thick, pressing against my stomach.

“None. Of. Your. Business,” I breathed.

He jerked back, his thunderstorm eyes dark and depraved, and suddenly, I had a feeling I did a very, very foolish thing taunting this man, and I was going to pay for it dearly.

“Don’t play games with me, Aisling. I will win. Easily. And I’m a bad sport and notoriously unfair, just like your miserable life.”

I stared at him defiantly, keeping my mouth shut. My teeth chattered. My whole body hummed with energy, but I didn’t back down.

“Do you want to be humiliated?” He grinned, starting to enjoy this game.

“No. I want you to make up your mind about what you want to do with me,” I said quietly.

“You’ve been running after me with your skirt up, begging to be fucked since before you got your period.”

He chuckled, producing a Swiss knife from his pocket, running it up my dress and slashing a deep, long slit through its middle, right between my thighs. The dress ripped noisily. He tucked his knife back into his pocket, dipping his hand in and brushing his finger along my slit through my underwear.

“You … you … you …” I panted, a mixture of rage and desire swirling in my stomach. I knew none of this was healthy or normal, and yet I craved it so much it hurt to breathe.

“Tore your pretty designer dress? Don’t worry. Daddy’ll buy you a hundred more. The pathetic part is you’re not going to deny me because you and I both know I can fuck you whenever I want, however I want, however many times I want. Bend you over—the jewel of the Fitzpatrick crown, Princess Aisling of Avebury Court Manor—and ram my cock so deep inside your ass you’ll see stars.”

I turned my face away from him, squeezing my eyes shut. I hated him in that moment. Hated him beyond belief. But he was right. That didn’t stop me from letting him slip his hand into my underwear, right there, in the middle of the street, behind a slimy gas station. He dipped two fingers inside of me to find me soaked and ready for him. His lips were close to mine when he spoke, but I knew he wasn’t going to kiss me.

This wasn’t foreplay. It was punishment.

“What do you do for a living, Nix?”

“Fuck y-you,” I stuttered, feeling my hips bucking, searching for more of his touch.

“I wouldn’t call that a full-time job. I usually grow bored of my fucks after a few hookups.” He shoved his fingers in and out, thrusting deep, filling me while his thumb rubbed my clit in circles. My skin felt warm and tingly. My knees turned to jelly. I was suspended over the brink of disaster, about to jump headfirst into the flames he lit just to destroy me.

Keep your cards close to your chest, mon cheri. You heard his maman yourself. He is a good blackjack player.

“Illegal, experimental drugs?” he prodded, swirling his thumb faster against my clit.

I shook my head desperately, refusing to cooperate. He used his free hand to grab my butt, curling a finger into my ass through my dress.

A moan ripped from my mouth at the unexpected intrusion, and I felt so full I knew a violent orgasm was coming my way.

“The no insurance, doctors-without-borders bullshit where you treat the poor ain’t flying, sweetheart.” He raised an eyebrow, slanting his gaze to the apartment complex behind me, fucking me harder with his fingers, slipping a third finger in and nearly throwing me off the edge. “Whoever lives in that building doesn’t get monthly food stamps. Take it from someone who looked poverty in the eye. I’d hate to blow your cover and kick in every door at the complex to find the asshole you visited and milk your secret out of them. But I’ll do it if I have to. So for the last time, Aisling, tell me what the fuck it is that you do.”

I shook my head, stitching my lips closed and squeezing my eyes shut, the climax washing over me, making every fine hair on my body stand on end. When Sam realized I wasn’t going to answer, he let me go. Moved away from me unexpectedly.

I was so weak with desire and pleasure, I nearly fell flat on my ass, bracing myself on the wall as I struggled to gain my footing.

Sam’s eyes were still on me, narrowed and full of fury. He sucked his index finger, releasing it with a pop, absorbing all the juices that coated it from when he fingered me.

“I was close,” I protested.

“Tough fucking luck. For more information, go to www.lifeain’tfairandwe’vebeenthroughthis.com.”

“What the hell!” I flung my arms in the air.

“The hell is you are a fucking headache and need to be taught a lesson. I am going to get the truth out of you, Aisling, one way or the other, but until I do, you lose all cumming privileges. Not by my hands, anyway, and let’s admit it—your sole purpose in life is getting fucked by me.”

His knowledge of just how much I wanted him destroyed me. I was too transparent, too naïve, too willing to show him how much he meant to me over the years. Now he was using it against me, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Nothing but try to show him I was my own person. That there was more to me than loving him.

“Why do you even care what I do?” I rearranged my torn dress around my legs the best I could to protect myself from the harsh weather. “You made it perfectly clear you don’t give a damn about me. You spent a whole decade dodging my advances.”

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