Malice

“Is that all? Are those all the reasons you hate me? Can you go now?”

Instead of answering, he slowly stalks toward me. I back away from him, because if he touches me, I know I won’t be able to say no to him. When my back hits the door, however, my heart rate kicks up about ten or eleven notches. He rests his hands on either side of my head, trapping me.

“Saint…”

“There’s one more reason,” he growls, lowering his head toward mine. “And it’s probably the biggest one.”

My breaths are shallow as I stare up at him. His heat is wrapping around me, making my head fuzzy.

“What’s the last reason?” I whisper.

He gazes down at me silently for a handful of seconds before softly answering, “You’re so fucking dumb that it’s not even obvious, is it?”

Before I can respond—before I can even think—his lips press against mine in a kiss that steals the last of my reason.