Riot Rules (Crooked Sinners)

by Callie Hart

“You think you’re stronger than me, Mendoza?” “Yes.” “You reckon you’re strong enough to handle whatever I can throw at you?” “Absolutely.” Am I fucking crazy? I should not be making claims like that. I’m strong because I’ve had to be. This isn’t the same thing. I don’t have to do any of this. I could walk away. He’s told me in no uncertain terms that I should, and what have I done? I’ve called him arrogant for it and done the exact opposite. I’ve run toward him at every turn. It’s the most masochistic, moronic behavior I’ve ever displayed in my life. “So you want me to be cruel, then?” he says. The timbre of his voice has taken on a whole new quality. Deep and rough, the rasp a physical caress, stroking down my back, brushing between my thighs, pressing a part of me there that makes my body hum. My thin nightshirt isn’t providing much in the way of heat, but it isn’t the chill on the air that’s making me shiver anymore. It’s the fierce look in his eyes, and the way the tip of his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “I’m saying you can do whatever you want, Dash.” Lord, why is my voice wobbling so hard? “You can do anything you want. It won’t have any bearing on my life. None at all.” “You sure of that?” “Yes.” Lies, lies, and more lies. Would I even know the truth anymore? If it leapt up and slapped me in the face, would I even recognize it? Dash glares at me. His brows pinch together into a knot, the lines getting deeper, deeper, deeper…and then his forehead abruptly...