Red Thorns (Thorns Duet #1) by Rina Kent

Or maybe he seeks the closeness.

But that doesn’t make sense. Why would he when our arrangement has been clear and direct since the beginning?

We’re using each other and that’s all, right?

He does pursue me afterward, but that’s only after he’s spent some time away. Be it half an hour or even a few minutes.

There always needs to be some distance put between us so the beast can morph into the man I know. The star quarterback with a fan page that worships at his feet and even knows his morning routine.

Not that I’m stalking him on social media or anything.

I’m not that desperate.

Oh, shut up, Naomi.

Anyhow, point is, this is the first time Sebastian has gotten close right after he’s finished.

Maybe he’s still the beast.

Maybe he’s not done tormenting me.

Though the promise of another round causes my core to throb, I really don’t think I’ll be able to take it. I can already feel the soreness in my ass and even my pussy. I need to go home and rub some oil on it.

And yeah, I kind of have a collection of those ever since this crazy asshole started chasing me.

“What are you doing?” I murmur, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

Sebastian is entranced by the back and forth of his finger on my shoulder as if he’s relearning something about his anatomy—or mine. “What type of question is that?”

“A simple one. You…shouldn’t be here right now.”

“Then where should I be?”

“I don’t know…outside?”

“So you want a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of thing?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

His fingers crawl up my shoulder to my collarbone until he wraps them around my throat. The hold isn’t tight, but the threat is there. Even the subtle drop in his voice is an indication of his mood. “Whether I leave or stay is only up to me to decide, so how about you get used to that, baby?”

He’s calling me baby, so he can’t be in his beast mode right now.

“How am I supposed to take it?” I taunt.

“Like a good girl.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Do you prefer being called a good slut?”

“Stop it.” My cheeks burn. “I don’t appreciate being called a slut outside of…you know.”

“That, I do know.” He loosens his grip but doesn’t release me as he fingers the pulse point.

“How…do you know?”

“We’ve been together for long enough that I can read your body language. It’s the first thing I notice about people.”

“Why?”

“Hmm.” His voice is absentminded, seeming deep in thought. “I think it’s because I was taught to be mindful of what type of image I project onto the world.”

“And that gave you the opportunity to learn about people’s body language?”

“Yes.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. You would be surprised how much people divulge about themselves with a simple gesture. A rub of the nose, sweaty hands, fidgeting, or even looking at a person for too long gives me a hint of their state of mind.”

“Only a hint? Why not the whole picture?”

“Because it’s never enough. Their clothes, posture, and way of talking are what completes it. Usually, one meeting is enough to determine whether the person is a friend or foe.”

“What category was I in?” I tease.

Sebastian’s expression, however, is blank. Only his furrowed brow is an indication of what I assume is confusion. Or maybe it’s displeasure.

“Neither,” he says quietly.

“I thought those were the only categories you have. Are there others I should know about?”

“Not yet.”

“Come on, that’s not fair.”

“Never claimed to belong to that neurotypical category.”

“Because you read people?”

“Because I tactfully avoid the bad kind.”

“Aren’t you bad yourself?”

“Depends on the circumstances.”

“Such as?”

“Being threatened, for instance.”

“Considering your selective skills, you’d be able to prevent danger. You should become a detective.”

“Long hours for minimum wage? No, thanks.”

“Greedy, too, I see.”

“I’m not greedy. I just recognize my worth. It’d be an insult to my IQ to follow a career that won’t lead me anywhere.”

“So helping people get justice leads nowhere?”

“Depends on your definition of justice.”

“There are more than one?”

“Of course. What do you think of when the word justice comes to mind?”

“That people should pay for what they’ve done.”

“That’s just simplistic.”

I hit his shoulder. “And what’s your non-simplistic view?”

“Justice is a system that’s been put in place so the powerful can get away with their wrongdoings under the blanket of righteousness. They legalized their barbaric ways and made laws to protect themselves from naive fools who still think that good will always win. Like all systems, justice is daily tampered with so that truths are twisted and the innocent are wrongly accused for no other reason than being a convenient scapegoat for the people who call the shots.”