His Trouble Maker

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

GRAYSON

She’s pissed.

She won’t even look at me when she gets inside my car.

I shouldn’t be glancing in the rearview every five fucking seconds just to see if she’s still got that look on her face–that one that says she’s two seconds away from either crying or tearing the world apart

But I do.

I heard her and Pierce shouting earlier back in their house.

I am not a man who dwell in other’s business but fuck it, I want to tear Pierce just by shouting at her like man, that’s my fucking girl.

“This is not the direction to the training center,” Jess said.

Tss. I know, baby. I almost pull over and fuck the attitude out of her right then and there–not because I need to correct her, but because seeing her this furious makes my cock hard in a way nothing else does. Her mouth says stop, but her body twitches in that way it always does when she wants me to keep going.

I grip the wheel tighter. Not to calm down, but to keep my hands busy soil don’t drag her over the console and bury every inch of her protest with my cock and a fist in her hair.

I love pissing her off

I hate it when someone else does.

“Grayson!” she shouts now, turning toward me, face flushed, eyes wild with fury she barely knows what to do with

I feel her shitting beside me, throwing her body on the passenger seat. When I didn’t answer, she lunges, grabs at me making the fucking car

swerves

“Fuck, Jess-“Islam the brakes.

she can fling herself through the damp windshield. I shove her back into the seat with enough force to knock the fight out of her

face inches from hers, watching her eyes go wide–full of panic “Do you want to fucking die?” Her eyes water instantly. Red rims. Wet lashes.

that she’s fucking angry–but hell, I almost killed her. My grip stays another second, just long enough to feel the panic spike again in her throat, just long enough to remind her

I shove her. Sharp,

starts coughing–raw, wet, painful. Her body curls on instinct, shoulders heaving, and I just stare at her. Watch her Every twitch, every flinch, every broken breath. Her hair’s a mess around her face,

fucking wrecked.

Chapter 23

My hands are back on the wheel but I don’t move. I don’t drive. I jua sit there jaw clenched so

mutter, Quiet this time. Flat, More

fucking

once–but she flinches the second my fingers get

Shit

say, and it comes out rough.

twitches like it might open, like she might snap something back–but all that fury from before is caged now. Quiet Sill

hard, staring straight ahead

eats a

quiet. So small I almost miss

mutters. Not looking at me. “I didn’t

cuts herself off. Like she

I want her closer. Want her mad, want her clawing, want her voice back up in my face sol

y head. Slow

I turn my h

hands clenched tight like she’s holding her own apology together by the

I say again, quieter this time.

“Look at me.”

but then her

I ask, my voice low, raw, wanting to know what’s turning inside

deep breath, swallowing hard ke the words are fighting their way

She doesn’t know.

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