Twisted Love (Twisted, #1)(14)

I was caught between disturbing lust—she was my best friend’s sister, for fuck’s sake—and inexplicable fury that other men were seeing her like this.

Ava’s eyes widened with alarm when she spotted me. “Alex? What are you doing here?”

“I tried to stop him,” Spectacles panted, out of breath. Living proof that skinniness does not equal fitness.

“He’s here for you, babe.” Jules leaned against the doorway, her amber eyes glowing with amusement. “You look super hot, by the way. Can’t wait to see the pics.”

“You are not seeing the pics,” I ground out. “No one is seeing the pics.” I yanked the blanket off the bed and tossed it over Ava’s shoulders, covering her up. “We’re leaving. Right now. And Blondie here is deleting every photo he took of you.”

Her jaw dropped. “No, I’m not, and no, he’s not. You can’t tell me what to do.” She threw the blanket on the ground and lifted her chin in defiance. “You’re not my father or brother, and even if you were, you have no say in what I do in my free time.”

“He’s taking photos of you half-naked,” I snapped. “Do you know how destructive those can be if they’re leaked? If a future employer sees them?”

“I volunteered for this,” she snapped back. “It’s boudoir photography. Artistic. People do this all the time. It’s not like I’m baring it all for a porn site. How did you even know I was here?”

“Oops,” Jules said from behind us. She didn’t sound sorry at all.

“You might as well be.” The simmering in my blood had reached a full boil. “Get. Dressed.”

“No-oh.” Ava’s glare intensified, and she dragged out the word “no” until it had two syllables.

“Hey, dude, I don’t mean no harm.” Blondie let out a nervous chuckle. “Like she said, this is art. I’ll edit it so her face is in shadow and no one can tell it’s her. I just need the photos for my port—what are you doing?” He squawked in protest when I snatched the camera out of his hands and started deleting photos but fell silent when I leveled him with a death glare.

“Stop! You’re being ridiculous.” Ava tried to retrieve the camera, to no avail. “Do you know how long those photos took? Stop. You are—” She yanked on my arm. It didn’t budge. “Being—” Another yank, same result. “Unreasonable!”

“I’m protecting you, since you clearly can’t do it yourself.”

My mood darkened further when I saw the pictures of her lying on the bed, staring sultrily at the camera. How long had she and Blondie been doing this, alone? It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had been going through his mind the entire time. It was the same thing that would’ve gone through any red-blooded male’s mind. Sex.

I hoped Blondie enjoyed his working pair of eyes while he still had them.

Ava stepped back for a minute, then lunged for the camera in a poorly concealed attempt to catch me off guard. I’d expected the move, but I still grunted at the impact as she scrambled over me like a fucking spider monkey. Her breasts grazed my arm, and her hair tickled my skin.

My blood heated at the sensations.

She was so close I could hear her breath coming out in soft pants. I tried not to notice how her chest heaved or how smooth her skin felt pressed against mine. They were dangerous, twisting thoughts that had no place in my mind. Not now, not ever.

“Give it back,” she ordered.

It was almost cute how she thought she could order me around.

“No.”

Ava narrowed her eyes. “If you don’t give it back, I swear to God I’ll walk out into the street wearing this outfit.”

Another bolt of fury sizzled through me. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Our faces were inches apart, our words so soft no one could hear them except us.

Nevertheless, I lowered my head so I could whisper right in her ear. “If you step a foot outside this room in that outfit, I’ll not only delete every picture on this camera, but I will destroy your ‘friend’s’ career until he has to resort to advertising shitty five-dollar-an-hour headshots on Craigslist.” A wintry smile touched my lips. “You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

There are two ways to threaten people: attack them directly, or attack those they care about. I wasn’t above doing either.

Ava’s mouth trembled. She believed me, as she should, because I meant every word. I wasn’t a senator or a lobbyist, but an obscene net worth, thick files of blackmail material, and years of networking had granted me more than my fair share of influence in D.C. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yes, I am, and don’t you forget it.” I straightened. “Get dressed.”

Ava didn’t argue, but she also refused to look at me as she disappeared into the bathroom across the hall to change.

Blondie and Spectacles gaped at me like the devil himself had poofed into their house. Meanwhile, Jules grinned like she was watching the most entertaining movie of the year.

I finished deleting the photos and shoved the camera back into Blondie’s hands. “Never ask Ava to do something like this again.” I towered over him, relishing the subtle shake of his shoulders as he tried not to cower. “If you do, I’ll know. And you won’t like what happens next.”