Free Dirty Twisted Love by Lili Valente Page A

said, swallowing hard as he stood, hitching his shorts up around his hips and jerking the waist tie tighter. “We’re going to the infirmary.”
    She staggered to her feet, clutching the remains of her shirt around her as she turned to face him, tears streaming down her cheeks.
    “Get your shorts.” He met her angry, tear-filled eyes, willing his heart to stay locked safely inside the walls of stone he’d erected years ago, after waking up in the hospital and learning his fiancée had been killed in the car wreck that had nearly claimed his own life. “I’ll find a sewing kit and you can try to fix them.”
    “I hate you,” she whispered, making no move to reach for her shorts.
    “You said that,” he snapped. “It didn’t keep you from coming.”
    Her jaw clenched. “I told you to pull out! I didn’t want this.”
    “Are you saying I raped you?” His eyebrows drifted up his forehead.
    He sounded like he couldn’t care less, but inside his blood had gone cold. She had obviously been consenting at one point—hating him as much as he hated her, but consenting—but had something changed along the way? He honestly couldn’t remember. It was like he’d gone out of his mind, losing every bit of the control that had made him one of the best agents in the field.
    “Obviously not,” she finally said, swallowing hard, as if it sickened her to say the words. “But if I’m pregnant, I will kill you. I swear I will. I won’t let you anywhere near any of my children.”
    “There were female operatives on this base at one point,” he said, forcing a bored note into his tone, even though he was so fucking relieved his knees felt weak. He hadn’t crossed that line and now he had a second chance to do this right. “There might be morning-after pills in the infirmary. I suggest we go look for one because the last thing I want is to curse another one of my children with you for a mother.”
    Harley’s eyes narrowed as she shook her head slowly from side to side. “You’re the curse. I will die before I tell you where Jasper is. He’s better off with no parents than ending up with a monster like you.”
    Clay reached down, snatching her shorts from the ground before grabbing her by the elbow. But he held her lightly. He wasn’t going to lose control again. He would make sure of it, by putting Harley where he should have put her in the first place—in a cell, with steel walls to keep her in and a steel door to keep them from getting too close to each other and igniting the dirty bomb that lived between them.
    “You think I’m bluffing,” she said, allowing herself to be led along beside him, through the clearing and toward the main operations building beyond. “But I’m not.”
    “I don’t think you’re bluffing,” he said. “I made the mistake of underestimating you. But from now on I’m going to treat you very seriously.”
    She glanced sharply up at him, but he didn’t turn his head. He kept his gaze on the simple white and brown building ahead of him and his eyes empty, giving Harley no warning that she would be spending the rest of their time together in one of the CIA’s sensory stimulation cells.
    There would be no deals; there would be no easy out.
    He had proven that he lacked the emotional distance to interrogate her and she had shown him that she would rather take her chances with a cobra than give him her trust. And why should she trust him? He’d proven he had no control, just like she’d proven she had no heart.
    The best thing for both of them would be to let the cell do the work and keep interaction between them to a minimum.
    But as he resigned himself to never touching her again, something deep inside his bones howled in protest. That animal inside didn’t want to do the right thing. It wanted to pick her up, set her on the counter of the infirmary, and get back between her legs. It wanted to fuck until all the hate was gone and it could finally burst through the bars of its cage