Twisted Love (Twisted #1)(31)

Red tinted her creamy skin. “I’m not a prostitute,” Madeline hissed. “You can’t pimp me out to another man when you’re done with me. And we are not done. Not until I say so. I’m Madeline fucking Hauss.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. We’re all prostitutes in our own ways.” My smile lacked any semblance of warmth. “I’ll give you a pass for your tone tonight, given our history. But don’t contact me again, or you’ll find out the hard way how I earned my reputation for being ruthless. I’m not above ruining women.”

This conversation was over.

I left a sputtering Madeline behind me and walked away, irritated by the interruption and furious at the sight of what awaited me in the middle of the dance floor.

Ava and Colton swayed to music from the live band the university had hired for the gala. His hands rested on her hips, and I saw them inching lower with each passing second.

I arrived next to them right as she laughed at something he said. It rang through the air like silver bells, and the tic in my jaw pulsed harder.

He didn’t deserve her laugh.

“Something funny?” I asked, masking my ire with an expression of cool indifference.

Surprise and wariness flared in Ava’s eyes at the sight of me.

Good.

She should be wary. She should be fucking home, safe and sound, instead of dancing with a manwhore like Colton and letting him put his hands all over her.

“I was just telling her a joke.” Colton chuckled but shot me a warning look that said, Why are you cockblocking, man? He was lucky if all I did was cockblock. I was tempted to break every bone in his hand for touching her like that. “You mind? We’re in the middle of a dance.”

“Actually, it’s my turn.” I maneuvered myself between them and pulled him off her with a little more force than necessary. Colton flinched. “You have to leave the gala early. Business calls.”

His brow pinched. “I…” His eyes roved between me and Ava, whose own eyes did the same between me and Colton. Realization dawned on his face. Guess he wasn’t so slow after all. “Ah, you’re right. Sorry, man. I forgot.”

“We’ll get lunch one day,” I said. I didn’t burn bridges unless it was a business rival or I had to. Seeds. Oaks. “At Valhalla.”

The Valhalla Club was the most exclusive private club in D.C. It capped its membership at one hundred members, each of whom was allowed to bring one guest for a meal each quarter. I’d just handed Colton the ticket of a lifetime.

His eyes widened. “Oh, y-yeah,” he stuttered, trying and failing to hide the awe in his voice. “I’d like that.”

“Good night.” It was a dismissal and a warning rolled into one.

Colton scurried off, and I turned my displeasure on Ava. We were close enough that I could see the way the lights from the chandeliers reflected in her eyes, like tiny star-beams streaking across an endless night. Her lips parted, lush and wet, and an insane desire to find out whether they tasted as sweet as they looked gripped me.

“You ran off my dance partner.” Her voice came out breathier than usual, and my cock jerked at the sound.

I gritted my teeth and tightened my hold on her until she gasped. “Colton is not a dance partner. He is a womanizer and a slimeball, and it’s in your best interest to stay far, far away from him.”

It would be in her best interest to stay far away from me too, and the irony wasn’t lost on me. If she only knew why I’m in D.C…

But fuck it, I was okay with hypocrisy. It didn’t even crack the top ten of my worst traits. “You don’t know what’s in my best interest.” The star-beams morphed into fire, sparking with challenge. “You don’t know me at all.”

“Is that so?” I guided her across the floor, my skin prickling from the strange, electric charge in the air. It was a thousand needles piercing my flesh, searching for a weakness. A crack. A doorway, however tiny, through which it could slip and jumpstart my long-dead, long-cold heart.

“Yes. I don’t know what Josh tells you about me—if he tells you anything at all—but I assure you, you have no idea what I want or what’s in my best interest.”

I paused, causing her to stumble into my chest. My thumb and forefinger grasped her chin, forcing her to look up at me. “Try me.”

Ava blinked, her breaths coming out in short, shallow puffs. “My favorite color.”

“Yellow.”

“My favorite ice cream flavor.”

“Mint chocolate chip.”

Her chest rose and fell harder. “My favorite season.”

“Summer, because of the warmth and sunshine and greenery. But secretly, winter fascinates you.” I lowered my head until my own breath skated over her skin and her scent crawled into my nostrils, drugging me. Turning my voice into a hoarse, sinful version of itself. “It speaks to the darkest parts of your soul. The manifestations of your nightmares. It’s everything you fear, and for that, you love it. Because the fear makes you feel alive.”

The band played, and the people around us whirled and danced, but in this world we’d carved for ourselves, it was silent save for our ragged intakes of breath.

Ava shivered beneath my touch. “How do you know all that?”

“It’s my job to know things. I observe. I watch. I remember.” I gave into my desire—a tiny one—and traced her lips with my thumb. A shudder rolled through us, our bodies so in sync we reacted the exact fucking way at the exact fucking time. I brought my thumb down and tightened my grip on her chin. “But those are shallow questions, Sunshine. Ask me something real.”